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sortofanobsession · 11 months

Note

For your presumed dead loving heart: Jaime is a no-show for training and not answering his phone, everyone is annoyed and Roy is pissed, until the police arrive asking help in identifying a body. Roy and Ted go and it's this whole ordeal thinking Jaime's dead, and being relieved it's not him. Meanwhile Jaime is alive but sunderground on the tubes with no service. When he finally gets to Richmond everyone is beside themselves, he's confused, Roy promptly grabs him and kisses him, chaos ensues.

A/N you guys love putting these guys through hell, don't you? And I am here for it! Love the drama. Love it all. Keep em coming! This one is a little shorter than most of the others but it's not the only one I plan to finish today. So, might have another post today. Not sure. Stay tuned.

Ao3

Ted Lasso Masterlist

Word count: 3k+

Paring: Roy/Jamie, Jamie & AFC Richmond Himbos (platonic)

Content Warning: car wreck, police detectives, death (some random dude), grief and loss, angst (happy ending), fear, mentions being sick/vomiting. Swearing, lots of swearing

A Very Bad Day for AFC Richmond Off Pitch

"This is not like Jamie," Dani says, his tone filled with concern.

"Well, not the newer Jamie, old Jamie maybe," Isaac says.

"But that Jamie is long gone. Our Jamie never misses," Dani Insists.

"And he usually tells someone. Did he train with Coach this morning?" Sam asks.

"I guess, but had to bail early. Said he had something to do before training," Colin states. He'd already asked. Now the coaches were sequestered in the office with the door closed. And that did not sit well with any of them.

"Coach Kent seems very angry," Jan states what they can all clearly see through the window. "He thinks Jamie is going back to old Jamie."

"Can you read lips?" The others ask.

"Helps learn languages faster. It unites verbal and vocal cues to memory faster," Jan says.

"Huh, what are they saying now?"

"That Jamie is still not picking up, and Keeley, I assume it is Keeley-" Jan says.

"Keeley, yes, he said it again," Richard agrees.

"Right, that she has not heard from him. And then Ted said that they can't just assume something then he looked away."

"Maybe they mean-" Richard goes to say but is cut off as a nervous-looking Higgins leads two men none of them knew into the locker room. Higgins hurries to knock on the gaffer's door. Then everyone silently waits. They can't hear what is said, but Roy goes silent and it looked like his anger drained right out with him as fast as the blood seemed to drain from Ted's face.

"Gatver," Jan curses. Richard unleashes a litany of curses in multiple languages. Dani goes pale.

"What?" Colin asks. "What happened? Who are they."

"Detectives," Jan says.

"Like Scotland Yard? Did they say metro or-" Colin is cut off when the office door opens and Ted and Roy leave.

Coach Beard looks at the team.

"What's going on, Coach?" Sam asks, hoping his friends were wrong. "Is it about Jamie?"

"We're those really detectives?" Isaac asks.

"Is Jamie okay?" Colin asks.

All three questions were asked at the same time. Beard holds his hands up. They go silent.

"First, yes they were detectives. Second, They don't know for sure yet but-" Everyone starts talking at once, and Beard looks at Higgins.

"Shut it!" Isaac shouts. "Let them finish." Beard nods at Isaac.

"It may or may not be about Jamie," Higgins says.

"How do they not know?"

"Because the car they found belonged to Jamie Tartt, but they couldn't ID the…" Higgins looks pained as he struggles to say it.

"They couldn't identify the driver," Beard says. His arms crossed over his chest.

"Was there an accident?" Sam asks, now very worried for his friend.

"If they couldn't identify him, then he is either dead or close to it," Jan states. Dani does the sign of the cross and mutters a prayer.

"The driver did not survive," Higgins finally says.

The room erupts into chaos.

"BUT IT COULD STILL BE SOMEONE ELSE!" Beard shouts. The team goes quiet again.

"Jamie has a very recognizable face," Dani says. "How do they not know? It is Jamie, or it isn't Jamie. Cannot be both."

"Roy said Jamie mentioned taking his car somewhere. That it had an issue. We don't know anything yet," Beard explains. "You boys can go home if you want. Training is-"

"We're not going nowhere, til we find out if Jamie is okay, right?" Isaac says, looking at the others who all adamantly agree.

"Well, then get comfy, might be a long wait."

"I should inform, Rebecca-Ms. Welton," Higgins says. And Beard nods as he goes back into his office in case someone calls.

"This cannot be happening," Dani says.

"Let's hope it isn't," Isaac says. "That is some sorta mix-up."

It goes quiet. No one is sure what to say, and everything feels wrong.

Roy doesn't even look at the team as he goes into the office and sits at his desk. Ted goes in and says something no one can make out to Beard before going back out to the oddly silent team. All of them just waiting for him to say something.

"Wasn't Jamie," Ted says. Shockingly direct and blunt for the usually verbose gaffer but the relief is palpable in the room. But everyone goes quiet again when Ted still doesn't look happy.

"Then what's wrong?" Sam asks. "Where is Jamie?"

"We still have not been able to track him down, but that is not necessarily a bad thing. He could just have a broken or dead phone. It is possible that there was a family emergency, or he got called away for something and didn't have time to let anyone know. We don't know anything except that someone had Jamie's car."

"Do they think someone took it from him, like violently?" Colin asks. He was too good at coming up with worst-case scenarios.

"No way of knowing yet," Ted says.

"So what? We just wait here until they tell us if Jamie is even alive?"

"Assuming they can find him," Bumbercatch says.

"Not the most positive of possibilities,” Ted says. “But we can only hope for a positive outcome."

"What does Roy think?" Colin asks.

"He hasn't said much other than that was definitely not Jamie," Ted answers honestly. "And I don't suggest asking him too much."

"Why not? He spends the most time with him," Jan says. Roy gets up and goes to the hall, slamming the door as he does. They all wince.

"Oh, I see," Jan says.

"He is taking this rather hard, it seems," Ted says.

It is quiet for a moment before Ted excuses himself to go talk to Rebecca and Higgins. And Roy, if he hasn't gone far, but Roy was already gone. So, he headed upstairs.

Roy let himself into Jamie's flat with a spare. He had told Jamie he needed to hide better, but Jamie had clearly failed to move the key. It was amazing no one had broken into his flat and- Roy was suddenly very concerned about what he might find inside. He called out for Jamie and was met with silence. Dread pooled in Roy's gut as he closes the door and made his way into Jamie's home. He looked around the floor before going upstairs and checking the first floor. Nothing. No Jamie. No sign anything was wrong. Absolutely nothing. Roy sat down on the edge of Jamie's bed and tried to think about every detail from their early morning training session. Jamie had seemed fine. He was his usual determined and annoyingly chatty self. He didn't seem worked up about anything other than his car having a light out or something. He was annoyed that he had to actually do something about it but not angry or even worried. It was eating Roy up that he hadn't stayed to find out more. Or offer to go wherever Jamie had to go with him. Fuck, why did it feel like he should have never left? Jamie is a grown-ass man. He didn't need Roy to hold his damn hand for everything.

"You sound broken," Keeley says when Roy finishes telling her what he knew.

"Fuck!" Roy shouts to the empty bedroom. He decided to keep the key and headed back to his car after locking up. The last thing he needed was for Jamie to come home to find his electronics missing or some shit. Roy ignores the tiny voice in the back of his mind that points out Jamie might never come home again. Might never do anything again. And it makes his knuckles go white as he grips his steering wheel and his breakfast threatening to make a reappearance for the second time that day. The first was right before they pulled the sheet back at the morgue. That moment when he thought he might actually have had to look at the cold and lifeless body of Jamie Tartt in the morgue. And fuck, that had nearly destroyed Roy. He had a moment of absolute relief when it was obvious that the body wasn't Jamie's. The face might not have been recognizable, but Roy had just seen Jamie. He knew Jamie's tattoos, and those were different. He knew Jamie's ring. Even his stupid fucking earrings. And the body had none of them. They hadn't taken any of them from the body. Roy actually knew a lot more of Jamie than he even realized he did. He could close his eyes and see the man in vivid detail. For better or for worse, Roy knew Jamie better than most people did. They spent hours talking about mundane shit during early morning runs and training. They even had breakfast on occasion. And Roy had enjoyed every fucking second of his time with Jamie. He drove back to Nelson Road, but before he got out of his car, he called Keeley to update her.

"Fucking feel broken," he admits.

"Is it because you care for Jamie more than you actually want to admit, or is it because you finally did admit it, and now you are scared you won't be able to do anything about it?"

"The second one," Roy says. "Fuck, Keeley, if something's happened and he-"

"You are going to work yourself into a mess with what-ifs, and when he does come home, you're going to make him worry or, worse, feel guilty. So just breathe and go be with the others. Call me if you hear anything, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks, Keeley," he says before hanging up. He takes a few deep breaths and goes inside. He waves off anyone that tries to ask how he is. He tells them he went by Jamie's flat, and he wasn't there, and nothing seemed off. Everyone just settles in to wait for some kind of answer.

Jamie rushes through the door, verbally apologizing for being late, but the train was late. When he notices that it is eerily silent despite the locker room being what had seemed like it's usually chaos when he came in. He looks up. And the room feels fucking off. Dani looks like he has been crying for who knows how long. Colin looks like he's seen a fucking ghost. Sam looks absolutely shook.

"Who fucking died?" Jamie means it as a dark joke, but when Colin's gaze snaps to Isaac like he expected their captain to explain. Jamie realizes it might not be a joke. "Wait, what-" but he is cut off by a body hitting his. And it knocks him breathless for a second. When he inhales, he gets hit with the overwhelming scent of Roy fucking Kent, and Jamie's brain might have to reboot because when he looks at Roy's face. The man looks fucking shattered, and Jamie is about to ask what was going on when Roy's lips are on his. Jamie swears Roy's hands shake as they grip the sides of Jamie's face. The striker drops the bag he was still holding so he can grip Roy's sides. He has no idea what is going on, but if Roy is kissing him, then he sure as shit isn't going to miss the opportunity to kiss Roy fucking Kent. 17-year-old him would have fucking lost his shit if he could see this.

"Not that I'm complainin'," Jamie says once he gets air back in his lungs. "But what the fuck was that for?"

"Where the fuck have you been? And where the fuck is your phone?" Roy asks.

Jamie's brow furrows despite the fact Roy still has a grip on his face. "Phones in me bag," Jamie says. "Some prick smashed me tail light. Told ya earlier had to drop it round the shop. Fuckin day for it. Seems the tube system is fucked today. Took fucking ages, and there's never any service down there, or I'd have let you know I'd be late. Shoulda got a loner. Ya gonna tell me going on? What happened?"

"They said you was fucking dead, bruv," Isaac answers him. Roy fucking tenses but doesn't pull away. “Then you weren’t, but still could be.”

Jamie is pretty sure Roy is not a PDA guy, but if what Isaac said is true, Roy's reaction made a bit more sense now, but still, what the fuck?

"What? Who?" Jamie asks and shifts to actually hug Roy, like an actual comforting hug. The right move based on the fact Roy moves one hand to the back of his neck, and the other goes around his shoulder.

"A detective dropped by and asked us to come identify a body," Ted answers. "Was a tense ride to the police station. I can tell you that much. Thought ol' Roy was going to pass out or throw up. And not cuz of the dead body. Obviously, wasn't you, since you're here. But whooey were we glad it wasn't you. I'm sorry for whoever it was and hope their family will be alright, but never been so glad NOT to see one of you fellas."

"Fuckin hell," Jamie mutters. "Ehhhh…can you guys…umm."

"Right!” Ted claps. “Now that our boy is here, time to train."

The team grumbles, but they go. Once everyone is gone. Jamie focused on Roy.

"I'm fine, Roy," Jamie says. Not coach, boss, or some joke about his age. He says his name. And that has something twisting in Roy's stomach. Good or bad, he doesn't know. "Really, I swear."

"Fuck," is the first thing Roy manages to articulate, and that earns a nervous laugh from Jamie.

"Yeah," Jamie grins because he can feel Roy start to relax. "Makes a lot more sense why I had like a hundred messages and voicemails. I just thought you all were just mad I was late. Not like late for me next birthday, kinda late." Jamie winces at his own dark humor joke. It earns a grunt from Roy, and he finally pulls away to actually look at Jamie.

"You have the worst fucking humor," Roy states.

"Yeah, that one’s a bit dark, innit?" Jamie laughs. "Probably not me best timed one either."

"Fuck no," Roy grunts.

"But a bad joke is still a joke, and can't tell many of those if 'm dead."

Roy nods in agreement.

"You right enough that I can get me kit on? Or do you need another hug?" Jamie genuinely asks. He's not about to rush anything, even if it is just letting Roy process the fact Jamie is very much still alive. Roy seems to weigh his options. He studies Jamie before pulling him in for another kiss. Jamie gives him exactly what he wanted. Once they pull apart again, Roy tells him to hurry the fuck up and get out on the pitch. Jamie just laughs.

He is lacing up his boots when his phone rings, and he answers it.

"Fucking hell, Jamie. Are you alright?" Keeley asks. She seems almost as stressed as the team was, and Jamie realizes someone must have called her trying to find him.

"I'm fine, still very much alive and late for training," he tells her.

"Roy was losing his fucking mind," Keeley says.

"I know, he…well, I'll tell you later. If I don't get out there, the whole damn team might come looking for me. I promise I will tell you the full story."

"After training," she says.

"Right, after training," he agrees.

"I'll hold you to it," Keeley says. "Oh, and I'm sorry about your car, but you can always get a new one."

"Wait, what about me car?" he asks as he finishes lacing his boots.

"Uhh, ask Roy. He can give you the details. And help you pick a new one," she says.

"Right, okay. Gotta go, yeah?"

"Text me later, babe. Now go on."

Jamie grins as he hangs up and heads to the tunnel.

Roy looks over at him as he reaches the pitch.

"You good? Took you a while," Roy looks him over, but he looks fine.

"Keeley called," Jamie states.

"That would do it," Roy nods.

"She mentioned something," Jamie says. Roy is suddenly very concerned that Keeley said something Roy hadn't had the nerve to say out loud but was pretty sure Jamie had figured out based on the fact Roy had nearly knocked him over and kissed him. Fuck that was- his thoughts are cut off when Jamie speaks.

"What happened to me car?" Jamie asks, and Roy grunts.

"Totaled. Some prick took it for a joyride and got themselves killed."

"Fuck,” Jamie says. His car was just a car, but yeah he can see why the police and shit got involved. “And you guys thought it was me?"

"Until Ted and I told them that the dead guy was not you."

"You had to…fuck, Roy. That's fucked up."

"Yeah, well, better us than your mum having to drive four hours to do it."

"Don't even joke. That would kill her," Jamie grimaces.

"Wasn't exactly a fun time for us either. But I knew it wasn't you," Roy says.

"How?" Jamie is actually curious.

"Because I know you, Jamie. I know you better than I do most people. And I know that for a reason."

"Oh yeah? What is that?"

"Because someone has to make sure you do shit, like move your damn spare key," Roy says, holding up the spare key to Jamie's flat. "I told you to do that weeks ago. It was way too obvious. And you are too famous to be that-"

"Stupid?" Jamie offers up, eyeing the key.

"Reckless," Roy finishes. "Fucking hell, Jamie."

"Just keep it, then I won't have to hide one," Jamie shrugs.

"Are you serious?" Roy asks, absolutely shocked.

"I mean, you show up at my house like every morning before dawn. Might as well make it easier on both of us and keep it. Besides, I have a feeling you'll be using a lot more now that-" Jamie is cut off by Roy kissing him. They get catcalls and wolf whistles from the players on the pitch. Jamie blushes and ducks his head when they pull apart. Roy just flips everyone off and tells them to fuck off and take a lap. They laugh until they realize he wasn't joking. Jamie joins them. After the lap, there is a lot of hugging, especially between Jamie, Dani, and Sam, before training actually starts in earnest. Jamie may need a new car, but he is sure as hell glad he has his coaches and his friends, especially Roy. Roy was easily becoming a bit of everything. His coach, his friend, and now something more. Yeah, Jamie could live with needing a new car for this outcome. He can live with that.

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graymanshoots · 6 months

Text

See you later

MW3 spoilers read at your own risk!!!!!

Warnings: Heavy Angst, possible military inaccuracies, mwIII spoilers, spoilers, no comfort, They have a son, mitski is the recommended artist to listen to when reading this which should be warning enough.

This is pretty short but I wanted to write something.

Another warning for spoilers just in case you missed the first 3.

"Just another job bonnie and then a’ll be back with ye and the wee one, yeah?" Johnny looked into your eyes, his heart aching at the pain he caused you from leaving.

"You promise?" Your voice shaky as your hands grip his shirt tightly.

Johnny's hands cupped your cheeks gently, wiping away any tears that escaped past your waterline.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips before resting his forehead against yours. "Promise."

Despite his promise the night before, the tears wouldn't stop when it was finally time for him to go. Your toddler son gurgling absentmindedly, unknowing to why his mother was so tearful.

Standing by the door with your husband's coat in hand, you watch him say his goodbyes to his child.

The sight of him making silly animal noises while playing with the 2-year-old that already looked so much like him, making it hard to keep it together.

It was harder every time he left.

When the boy got tired of playing farm, he crawled off towards his blocks, leaving his father to play on his own.

Johnny lets out a chuckle before standing up and making his way over to you.

A lighthearted smile planted on his handsome face.

“Yer so, so gorgeous, Bonnie," he says, grabbing your hand, pulling you towards him.

You automatically wrap your arms around him, your damp face wetting the front of his shirt.

Johnny's arm comes around your waist while his other hand smooths over the nape of your neck.

"Am gunna miss ye so fuckin' much," he sighs, holding you tighter.

You feel yourself relax in his hold, but the moment is swiftly ruined by the beep of his watch.

"I really don't want you to go," you mutter, knowing that he had no choice in the matter.

"A ken," Johnny says, kissing the top of your head. "Am gunna be late." He finally pulls away, taking his jacket from your hand.

"Goodbye, Johnny, we'll be waiting," you say, already missing his embrace. "No' goodbye, a'll see ye later," Johnny gives you a last kiss before leaving.

If only it was "see you later."

Weeks later, you find yourself crumbling to the ground when a flag is presented to you.

The uniformed man at your door wasn't even audible past your cries.

There was a deep sickness you felt in your stomach, a nausea that bubbled in the back of your throat.

Feeling a hand on your back rubbing soothing circles, you felt yourself calm down. "I'm sorry for your loss…" his voice was soft and held a guilty undertone.

Nothing could have ever prepared you for the agony that was burning through your chest. You'd assume it was akin to a burning knife being pressed into your heart.

Your sadness never turned to anger.

There were never the 5 stages of grief.

It was just hurt, hurt everywhere.

A/N:

I actually cried for hours after playing the campaign.

COD is literally so shit and they literally made a horrible campaign Johnnys death aside.

Nothing made after MWII is canon for me I literally don’t fucking care.

What they did was not good for the story regardl of if it’s a remake.

They aren’t even following the original so them following ever characters death doesn’t matter.

I’m just pissed that they really just gave us bullshit with a shock factor death to take the fucking cake for worst game campaign ever.

Anyways I hoped you all enjoyed I’ll be writing fluff later on to compensate for this.

And if konigsblog is reading thank you for your post about writing a Scottish accent cause it really helped when I was writing this.

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gabbagepatch · 2 months

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It was my new birth control 3-11-2

I have not been in a good way, as anyone can tell by my previous blog posts, but things are looking up finally!

I blame nearly all of this on the birth control I was prescribed two weeks ago, Tri-Lo-Marzia. I cannot shout this enough:

IF YOU HAVE A HISTORY OF ANXIETY OR MENTAL ILLNESS TAKE TRI-LO-MARZIA WITH EXTREME CAUTION.

I stopped taking it after Friday, March 8th. It is now Monday and I feel so, so much better. I had a bad feeling about it for some reason, did some research and found hundreds of reviews from other women describing how it absolutely destroyed them with anxiety. I have not had a panic attack since I stopped taking it, although I still have some residual anxiety.

The crazy part is that my endo prescribed this birth control to me virtually, did not really discuss it at all. It was just, "I want your periods to be more regular, here's a birth control." over messaging on Healow.

Just to recap:

Two weeks ago I began feeling anxiety almost constantly. This was after the death of my family dog, who I had since I was seven years old. I thought it was some kind of delayed grief and I have had other traumas so far this year so I figured I was just having a dip in my mental health.

I began to be terrified of taking any medications, having intense panic attacks after I would take any pill. This was a huge issue because I am now experiencing daily pain and vertigo which I felt I could not medicate out of fear. I was also terrified of OTC medications, afraid of overdosing even if I only took 200mg ibuprofen.

Throughout the day I would feel short of breath, getting chest pains. When I was home alone I would just count down until someone came home because I was terrified of being alone. I was worried I was having a medical emergency and nobody would be around to help. I could not eat because I felt like I was choking constantly and had constant nausea. I would only eat if others were in the house because I was scared of choking. I lost more than ten pounds in two weeks.

At night it would be at it's worst, all I could do was sit on the couch late into the night playing Tetris trying to distract myself from the full body terror I was experiencing. I got sick (possibly viral, not so sure anymore) and began vomiting constantly and experiencing intense hot flashes.

[TMI incoming] I specifically was having the most intense sensations in my groin area, the first time it happened I was so terrified. I thought I had wet my pants the heat was so intense, I thought something was so wrong with my body I lost control of my bladder. It is the most fear I've ever felt and I've nearly drowned before. The heat flash and/or panic attack so intense my teeth began screaming in pain and my tinnitus shot through head like an arrow.

My lovely mom drove me to the ER were they treated my anxiety with Ativan, the rest of that day I cannot remember. Ever since then I had to cope with intense paranoia, daily panic attacks, heart palpitations, chest pain, a rattling within my body that would not leave, random twitches and muscle spasms, and the worst anxiety I have ever experienced. I have been in two weeks of hell.

I was a functional, healthy 20y/o girl before this. Even with the death of my dog and a new illness I was coping well. Tri-Lo-Marzia knocked me on my ass in three days, and I have to relearn how to be normal after two weeks of constant fear.

Guys, I'm being vulnerable when I tell you I thought I needed to check myself into the ER and get inpatient mental health treatment because of how debilitating this anxiety was. I was having dark thoughts, tired of being terrified for two weeks straight after the loss of my dog and a developing vestibular disorder that pulled me out of school.

Take this as a vent, PSA, whatever, but for the love of all that is good if you get prescribed Tri-Lo-Marzia please look out for this and talk with your doctor. It feels criminal that I was prescribed this medication for a nonemergent issue, with absolutely no preparations or warnings from my doc when there are hundreds of women reporting symptoms just like (or worse!) than mine.

I'll be telling my endo about this and encouraging her to remember this next time she prescribes it. Especially for patients who have a history of GAD or other mental illness. Stay safe and informed, ask your doc questions.

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lets-talk-spirituality · 9 months

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Greetings! May I please request some messages from my companion H? What would he like to tell me?

Thank you in advance, I’ll leave feedback

-P. Cancer. 🫀

I can try. I can’t guarantee what energy will come through or what will come up. Normally I ask spirit to tell me or show me, not a specific entity’s higher self.

🫀 🫀 🫀 🫀 🫀 🫀 🫀 🫀 🫀 🫀 🫀 🫀 🫀 🫀

Spirit what does H want P to know right now?

I’m feeling deep anxiety, I think they are feeling anxiety about something, nausea, sickness, nervousness, head ache, panicky, shaky

Why do they feel that way?

Everything is changing all the time and I just feel overwhelmed (I’m seeing stress cleaning, talking really fast, going down a mental spiral— take a breath!) I just want control, I want to control my life and everything feels so out of control. Ahhh fuck it (I’m seeing them kind of drinking or partying as a way to cope with this lack of control, if they can’t control then they’ll escape. They think it’s letting go, but it’s more like flying off the handle). I don’t have time for this! (Anger, stress, knocking papers off a table, I think this is something relationship related and it impacts work as well). Sigh. (Breaking down in tears)

What the fuck is happening?

They are grieving something, I’m hearing someone died close to them, a parental figure, a mentor, someone they saw as a parent. They do not know how to cope and I feel their distress. They are chaotic and all over the place right now. I don’t like this energy, it’s frantic and scattered.

I’m gonna send them love and light and remove my energy.

Card Pull

Druid Craft Tarot

Spirit what else can you tell me about what’s going on with this person?

Death— the old and unnecessary wants to die. What passion! The new prepares to open like a rosebud at the dawn of a new day.

Keywords: clearing away the old makes room for the new, precursor to transformation, intense passion, initiation

Meaning— initiation and transformation. The core structure of initiation involves an experience of death followed by an experience of rebirth— you may be at just a moment of initiation. We often have to die to our old ways of thinking, feeling or behaving before we can open to our new life.

This card flew the fuck out. It’s a major arcana card which means it relates to a big change in their life path, it’s the number 13, reduces to 4, which deals with home life and foundations. I did channel death and grieving and to me this confirms that. Someone close to this person died and it is deeply impacting them.

I’m feeling that this death of someone is going to push H into a position of power or leadership they feel unready or unwilling for. But this other person had to move in order for it to allow room for H to move forward. I think they know this and it’s part of the grief and stress, H has to take something on (I don’t have time for this!) added stress on top of the grief of the loss. But on the other side is a stronger and more resilient person.

How can P help them? How can they help themselves?

Chakra Exploration Deck

No cards came out. Spirit is saying to focus on you, you aren’t meant to help them and they are meant to seek internal guidance at this juncture.

Not sure how this will resonate, but odd reading. Their emotions are not stable. Maybe try sending them love and healing through envisioning sending a white light from your third eye to theirs. Best of luck!

#channeled message #channeled reading #free tarot #free readings #tarotscope #tarot cards #tarot #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot reader #divination

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fanficandtheories · 2 years

Text

Let’s talk about Damen’s grief (Part one)

(Part two, Part three)

It’s never talked about as much as Laurent’s grief or trauma. Damen is always the powerful, determined, makes-ends-meet type of guy. A much lesser attributed factor to his character is his grief. No one talks about how much he changes through the trilogy and his grief is the only tether to his old life. Let me explain. (Probably in more than one post, I’ll see)

That right place to start would be in Ios, after the trial.

This whole section is particularly difficult. Through out the trilogy, Damen is called a dumb brute/a naive fool/an arrogant prince who didn’t see the treachery seeping through his family, this is either directly said (Laurent) or politely implied (Nikandros). But in reality, Damen never had a reason to see a possibility for treachery. He never saw himself as holding a bigger power that could be stolen, by being the heir. At least not in Kastor. He always strived to please his brother and father, who were the bigger powers in his life, who he thought were better than him. He looked up to them as people who were trying to teach him to be a better king. Kastor and Theomedes were one and the same in his mind’s eye. He took the throne as a responsibility, a job that had to be done right, rather than a ✨privilege✨.

It’s so sad when he tries not to feel small waiting in the slave baths, like Kastor could even hold a candle to his forest fire. It’s down right depressing when he mentions the similarity Kastor has with Theomedes, that semblance of family, the blind desperation for family. He can’t even get himself to digest the facts of his life in hopes of keeping his brother. He just fought through nations to come back home. He finally faces Kastor and he can’t even get himself to do anything, because he can only see his father, who is ✨dead and buried✨.

Like I said, his grief is what tethers him to his old life/his family. A blind hope really, but I wouldn’t blame him for grappling to home after months in Vere.

This exchange from the night he was captured is painful af. I always forget that Damen was never allowed to mourn for his father. Because this happens, and then he wakes up in an enemy nation. He lowers his sword, he lowers his fucking sword, the most renowned fighter in Akielos only had to hear of his father to put his guard down. That’s what family means to Damen.

I’ll save the pain of recounting every thing Laurent does when Damen is in Vere. Like, dude just lost his father and got kicked out of his country, but Laurent just tries to press salt into that wound. No one questions it and the cruelty of it is lost on us because ofc ✨trauma and revenge✨ on Laurent’s part. (This is why the flogging is one of the most unsettling things about their relationship for me, because it’s never handled properly… just swept under the carpet with that bath scene in the summer palace) But there are moments in Arles when damen’s home sickness comes up in overwhelming waves, like these, when he thinks of the betrayal, the loss, and the danger in Vere.

Then, the ride to Delpha, and falling for Laurent, of all people. Plain bad news for his grief.

Damen is called a playboy prince who likes blondes so often that we forget that falling in love with the enemy was equally difficult for Damen as much as it was for Laurent. Because Damen never knew that Laurent knew who he was, so imagine falling for someone who had you whipped (pun-intended) for no reason but your nationality. *Stomach churning, bile rising nausea*

In the book, when Damen finds out Laurent knew all along, he says laurent must’ve been in some state of delusion and loneliness to have slept with him at Ravenel. Funny how that same logic goes for him. He thinks he tolerates so much crap from Laurent, for no reason but ✨Akielos✨, all the while falling desperately for him.

Because falling for Laurent also meant questioning his own beliefs, discarding the sadness of his fathers death and staying quiet when Laurent openly insults his father, his country, and him. (Laurent’s such a cinnamon roll, but I fucking hate him sometimes, esp for what he did to Damen)

Exhibit A

Laurent spitting about Theomedes’ murder (something Damen didn’t know) at Ravenel, intentionally, knowing it would hurt Damen, talking about Damen as ✨Damianos✨. Which is Laurent fighting back, defending himself, also being petty, sure, but hurting Damen mostly. And Damen, being Damen, does not place a single ounce of blame on Laurent for what he is feeling in that moment. He just internalises the grief, and the guilt onto his own family, thinks of his lost barbarian father, and the traitorous brother. He still wants to help Laurent. Fuck. Because, then he politely raises his hands asking the guards to arrest him after he punches Laurent in grief.

Yes, Laurent apologises, but that too comes with him telling Damen that he was in fact glad when Theomedes and Damianos died. Like I said, salt in the wound, leaving Damen to feel the grief and guilt tenfold.

#captive prince #damen x laurent #c s pacat #damen of akielos #c.s. pacat #cs pacat #kings rising #laurent of vere #prince’s gambit #capri #nikandros #capri queries #capri theories #capri theory #fan theory #griefandloss #damen #laurent

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oliviajdjarin · 2 years

Text

Leo Valdez: Always You (Part 1)

Pairing: Leo Valdez x fem!reader

Summary: Leo tells you, his best friend, all about how much his breakup with Calypso hurt him. Little does he know that you are the one carrying all the pain.

Warnings: sad Leo, kinda TOA spoilers but not really I went pretty off canon, death, depression, crying, hugging, Reyna is a bad bitch but we know this. Confused Leo, but he starts to come around. Angst with a hopeful ending.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy more of my favorite boy. If you’d like, you can listen to this song while you read. :)

Part 1 I PART 2

Leo Masterlist

There was nothing like the stars at Camp Half-Blood.

Their bright light seemed to shine even in the darkest of nights. Their slight twinkle reminded you of all those who had been lost, whether it be from the Battle of Manhattan, Gaea, the Oracles, or anything in between. It made you think they were thinking of you, and it made you happy that they were not forgotten. Even if it was just you thinking of them, they would be remembered in the stars.

You also enjoyed how the stars painted stories. Constellations of all shapes and sizes were so easily visible in the clear sky, and you could sit and stare at them for hours and hours. Trying to decipher each of their stories, accomplishments, and beautiful failures. It was one of the main reasons you enjoyed star-gazing. You loved getting lost for a while, and listening to the quiet and feeling the serenity of the world around you.

You enjoyed doing it alone, but like most things, it was even better with a friend….

…..like Leo.

Leo had been your friend for many months now. Not even just your friend, but your best friend. The kind of friend that you would drop everything for. That you would ruin your best days for. That you would listen to for hours and hours and cry for and laugh with and die for.

But when he took that last promise. When he actually followed through with what he had been planning…..

To say you were shattered was an understatement.

You felt physically sick for months. You had no motivation, on top of constant anxiety, so all that energy had nowhere to go. You were exhausted but couldn’t sleep. You would space out and drift off in large crowds, constantly distracted and overwhelmed, but yet you felt every noise louder in your head.

It took you longer than it should to realize what exactly you were feeling. You would Google and research what was causing so much disarray in your mind and body, but grief, sadness, and depression never seemed to fit. But one day, it all finally clicked.

heartbreak- [noun]; intense and overwhelming grief, especially through disappointment in love. The concept is cross-cultural, often cited with reference to unreciprocated or lost love.

Symptoms include: loss of breath, crying, nausea, burning chest, insomnia, easily distracted, etc.

Who knew Wikipedia could be so helpful, but pierce your heart even further?

Your heart was broken.

That’s why everything seemed to be falling apart with not only your health, but your life. The symptoms were exactly what you had been dealing with since the moment you watched Leo die. Nothing could describe how much your chest shattered into a million pieces, and how you felt it throughout your entire body.

It all finally made sense, and the breath of relief that you let out was proof enough of that.

You reread the definition one more time, basking in the feeling of relief and satisfaction, when your eyes got caught on one specific portion.

Lost love.

You paused, only hearing your deep breaths and the sound of other campers outside your window.

Lost….love.

You knew you loved Leo, that was obvious, but you always saw it as a friendship sort of love. You cared for him deeply, and you always put his needs before your own in any situation, but you never saw it as….romantic? Right?

It was like Pandora’s Box opened up. All of the memories that you shared with the curly-haired boy flashed through your brain like a sped up short film. You thought about what you wanted in those moments that you shared with him, specifically when you two were alone, and it was almost as if your past self was slapping you in the face.

You loved when he put his body close to yours, even when it was unintentional. You felt a magnetic pulse through your body when you walked into Bunker 9 and only smelt him. His shampoo, his deodorant, the sunscreen you made him wear, and knowing someone’s exact scent like the back of your hand wasn’t….normal. Especially when you left your clothes and extra blankets there purposely so they could be showered in his scent as well.

You wanted him to kiss you. For real. Like, on the lips.

How could you forget when he pecked your cheek after you figured out the error in the upgraded wings for Festus? How you almost melted to the floor, and how you didn’t want to wash your face that night so you could feel his lips on your skin for as long as physically possible.

And you would never be caught dead denying how attractive he was. Not only his golden skin and freckled face, but his quick wit and huge heart. No one felt as hard as he did, but yet, at the same time, he locked it all away so tight that no one could ever find it. And when he did share those emotions with you, when he let you peak into that box for even a second or two, you would almost cry with joy.

I didn’t want friendship, you thought to yourself. I’ve always wanted more. It’s always been him.

That’s why you were so wrecked. That’s why nothing excited you, even the things you held most dear.

You lost your love.

Luckily for you, Leo returned from the dead (not literally….it’s a long story) very shortly after you had that realization, so you didn’t have to sit and wonder if what you felt for the boy was real love or not.

As soon as you saw his face again, and how when he smiles really big his nose squishes a little, you knew you loved him.

You’ve loved Leo since you first met him.

You tore across the camp, pushing and shoving everyone ruthlessly to get to the front of the crowd, screaming Leo’s name.

You thought you saw the shadow of a figure next to him, but everything that wasn’t centered on Leo and Leo only became fuzzy. Your tunnel vision went straight to him, and nothing else mattered. The only things you could hear were the pounding of your feet across the grass and your high-pitched calls for Leo.

As you got closer to the front of the crowd, still screaming your head off, you saw Leo’s body still. He looked focused, like he was listening for something. You took the opportunity to yell his name once more, and this time, you knew he heard you.

He turned towards the crowd and scanned every face that he could find, looking for the figure he could sense with his eyes closed, and he laughed when he finally saw you. A genuine, relieved sounding laugh that hadn’t left his lips since…

….he didn’t even know how long it was.

“Leo!” you called once more when you finally got through the front row. You didn’t even think before jumping into his arms, throwing your arms around his neck. He let out a small “oof” as you collided, but he inhaled deeply and hugged you back once he became stable.

“You’re alive,” you cried into his neck.

“I’m alive,” he responded with a cracked voice, and you just held each other for a few moments.

You felt the pieces of your heart that had been cracked and stomped on start to knit themselves back together at the feeling of him in your arms. Tears streamed down your face, and the headache you had for months started to lift its cruel grip away from you.

You didn’t care where he’d been. You didn’t care what he had done. None of that mattered when he was pressed against you.

Your heart rate slowed down, and you didn’t know it then, but his own heart started to move in sync with yours. Like your two souls found their rhythm again. It felt like magic.

This was magic.

You finally pulled away and looked at his face, setting your hands on his chest.

“Hi,” you laughed, and Leo responded with his classic grin.

“Hello Y/N/N,” he said.

“I have so much to tell you,” he said excitedly. “But first, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

He gestured to his left, and your eyes followed his hand to meet the gaze of a….girl.

Not even a girl. She looked like….like a woman. She was stunning.

“This is Calypso! She’s my….my girlfriend.”

All that knitting your heart did to put itself back together, got slashed in half with a sword. Your knees buckled, your arms went numb, and you felt the bile start to crawl up your throat.

His….girlfriend. Leo’s girlfriend. Leo has a girlfriend. Leo left and died and came back with a woman. Not me. His girlfriend isn’t me. It was never me, and now it will never be me. Not me not me it’s her it’s not me.

“Hi Y/N. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Calypso,” she said, and stuck her hand out to shake yours.

Did she just say Calypso? Like the actual…an actual goddess? A goddess?

You shook her hand, still staring with your jaw dropped to the floor, and you hoped she didn’t feel how sweaty your hands were.

You tried your best to be polite, but your heart was going so fast you didn’t even know how to breathe. All the air had been knocked out of your lungs. You were surprised you were still standing.

“Like the…you’re a goddess?” you said with as much enthusiasm as you could muster.

“Well, not anymore,” she said with a laugh. You two dropped hands, and you watched hers fall, thinking about how many times she must have touched Leo with that exact hand.

Your Leo. You thought he was your Leo.

“It’s a long story,” Leo said and connected his hand with hers.

I’m going to vomit. I need to leave. Get me out get me out please someone get me out.

They looked each other in the eyes, and you pressed your lips together to keep yourself from blowing it.

“I’ll tell you all about it,” Leo said. “But until then, I’m starving,” and he led Calypso to the dining hall.

Leaving you. Again. Watching.

And you watched. You watched them for so long. They called each other nicknames, they hugged, they kissed. They looked…. in love. They looked like they were in love.

People who are in love argue…right?

The only one who recognized your pain was Reyna, and that wasn’t until months after Leo returned when you finally visited New Rome after the whole Oracles and emperors situation. She saw it in your eyes when they would be together, and she confronted you about it one night.

You couldn’t lie to her. You tried to hold it in, you really tried to, but you told her everything, and cried into her shoulder.

If anyone could understand what you were going through, it was Reyna, and she helped you through it. You didn’t realize how much holding it in was making it worse.

And that’s when the lovebirds started arguing….more. It wasn’t either of their faults, really, it just started getting more…tense. Like everyone around them was in the middle.

But Leo assured you it was fine. Everything was fine.

Until one night, you watched them from your cabin window. You watched her tell him that she needed to go out and find herself, away from everything and everyone. She needed to figure out who she was away from the island, and she can’t stay here. She can’t have strings attached.

You saw Leo’s face fall, that look of heartbreak, and you cried right along with him.

And now, you were here. Sitting next to him, watching the stars, and listening. Listening to how much she hurt him.

You were so exhausted.

“I just…can’t shake the feeling that I didn’t do enough,” he said to you. “Maybe if I could have given her what she wanted, she would have stayed.”

He would do this every. single. time. He would tell you how he was hurting, you’d do your best to console him, and he’d thank you for being there for him. But your words just wouldn’t sink in, no matter how hard you tried.

No matter how many times you told him that he was worthy, kind, and good, he just wouldn’t let it in. You understood where this was coming from, but it was so frustrating because you saw just how good he was. To admire someone and love someone so much and them not even love themselves is mind-boggling. You didn’t understand how he couldn’t see it.

You just wanted to shake him back and forth and yell “Leo! I love you Leo! Can’t you see that? Why can’t you see that!”

You continued looking at the vibrant, beautiful stars, and took a deep breath before saying “Leo, I promise you, you haven’t done anything wrong. It is perfectly normal for people to grow apart. It wouldn’t have ended if it wasn’t supposed to. Maybe….maybe you’ll find someone better,” you said and looked at him. “Maybe, there’s someone out there who is better for both of you. Not better in a sense that they are a better person, but a better fit for a romantic relationship. Things happen for a reason Leo, and we grow with them.”

He looked at you, meeting your eyes, and smiled.

“So you’re saying we met for a reason?” he said teasingly.

You smiled, feeling your blood pump harder at his grin. You know he didn’t mean it in the way you wanted him too, but it still felt good.

“We did Leo. We definitely did. I’ll never forget the day you came back,” you replied. “It was the happiest day of my life.”

Your voice cracked a bit at that sentence. Even though that day was clouded with pain and heartbreak, you still wouldn’t take any of it back. You took the final step to realizing you loved him that day, and his beautiful spirit wasn’t dead, it was alive. He never left.

The pain was worth it, no matter how much it killed you.

“You really mean that?” he asked, and his eye-contact was intense.

“I’ve never lied to you Leo,” you responded.

Withholding information doesn’t count as lying….right?

“Come here,” he said and pulled you into a warm hug. The air was a bit chilly from the night, and his touch warmed you from the inside out. You closed your eyes and let yourself fully embraced him. His warm skin, his hair tickling your cheek, how you could feeling his heart and breathing against you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

“I love you Y/N, you’re the best,” he mumbled into you.

That smile disappeared almost as soon as it came. He didn’t love you. Not in the way you loved him at least.

Pretending you didn’t made you sick.

“I love you too,” you said, and you meant it. Tears trickled down your face, but you wiped them away before Leo could see them when he pulled away from the embrace.

“I’ll see you for breakfast tomorrow, yeah?” you asked him, trying to escape into your bunker so you could really cry.

“Of course. Just like every morning,” he said.

But not with Calypso, you thought to yourself. With Calypso it wasn’t every morning. It was barely once a week.

“See you then,” you laughed off and waved him goodbye. You didn’t even look at him long enough for him to wave back before you walked as fast but as subtly as you could back to your bunker.

Just get home Y/N, you thought to yourself. Just get home, you can do this.

And when you did, you let it all release.

~~*~~

Leo watched you walk away, noting how much the moonlight lit up your face and eyes when you waved him goodbye. He also noticed how quickly you were walking, and how you were trying not to make it look obvious.

His eyebrows furrowed in concern, but if you didn’t make it obvious to him, then you didn’t want to talk about it. You two had promised to tell each other everything.

That didn’t make him less concerned though.

He exhaled deeply and rubbed his hands over his arms, warming himself up slightly.

He just sat there and let his brain be quiet. This was a rarity for him, knowing how much his brain tended to scatter and latch onto things, but he always tended to be a bit calmer when you were around. Especially during conversations like the one you two just had.

He felt…at peace. Better. Calm.

Or at least for a couple seconds he did.

“Hey!” he heard from behind him, and he almost jumped out of his skin.

He turned around quickly, only to be met with the face of a very angry Reyna, and he laughed nervously.

“Oh geez Reyna, gods, you’re gonna kill a person one of these days.”

“You do realize you are the stupidest demigod known to man, right?”

“And that’s like the, what, eighteenth time you’ve said that to me since we met each other?”

She exhaled in frustration, before setting her weapons down and plopping herself down next to Leo.

“If you wanted to look at the stars with Y/N and me all you had to do was—”

“Do you ever look her in the eye?” Reyna said, cutting Leo off.

Leo was, again, confused.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Answer the question Leo.”

“Yeah….yeah I mean, that’s normally where you look when you’re talking to someone unless you’re some kind of cree—”

“You don’t get it,” she said. “Do you ever look her in the eye? Like, really look at her? See what she’s feeling? Eyes don’t lie Leo.”

“I mean…I guess I do. Yeah.”

“Well, then you’re missing something,” she said, and looked forward angrily.

“I am really confused Reyna. Did I do something wrong?”

“Do you ever ask her questions? Or does she just listen to you talk about Calypso 24/7.”

Now that…that gave Leo some pause. He thought back in his mind to the last time he asked you a question about how your day was or how you were feeling. And he couldn’t think of when.

Oh Gods.

“Exactly,” Reyna said after a few moments. “But yet she still hangs out with you all the time. Why do you think that is?”

“Well…” Leo stuttered, trying to think. “We are just friends. Best friends even. That’s what friends do.”

“No Leo, friends don’t look at each other the way you two do, or at least the way she looks at you,” Reyna said. “A friend wouldn’t mourn for months and months, barely eating or getting out of bed, complaining that their chest burns after the other dies. If she was just your friend, she wouldn’t do that. A friend doesn’t lose their mind and push literal children over to get to you, crying and jumping into your arms when she finally sees you again. A friend doesn’t watch you enter a relationship, presenting themselves as happy and excited for you, but comes crying to me after she sees you two kiss. She didn’t even try to find anyone else to actually be with. It didn’t even cross her mind.

“But she never told you that, did she Leo. She didn’t tell you because she wants you to be happy, even if that’s not with her and it makes her physically sick that it isn’t. She’s not your friend Leo. She’s heartbroken.”

Reyna ended her speech with a quick breath through the nose and stood up, gathering her weapons back into her hands.

“So….you’re saying…” Leo started. “You’re saying…that this whole time…”

“Yes Leo, it’s always been you. She’s always wanted you,” Reyna replied. “And now I want you to look at me, right in the eyes, and tell me that you haven’t wanted her too.”

Leo did look in Reyna’s deep, richly brown eyes eyes. He gathered a large breath in his lungs, preparing to say something in response.

But nothing came.

“And that, my friend,” Reyna began, “is why I’m here.”

She started to walk down the hill, and Leo felt absolutely frozen to the grass.

What. Just. Happened.

Reyna was right, he was stupid. This whole time, you’ve liked him. You liked him.

And he liked you back. Good gods did he like you back with a vengeance. He felt his heart rising with excitement at the feeling. His chest was burning with delight, and he felt like dancing and jumping up and down.

But he soon realized, that that was why you walked away so quickly only a few moments earlier.

He had spent the last twenty-so minutes talking about another girl. Another girl who he thought tore his heart in two, but in reality, you had it the whole time. He just wanted Calypso to distract himself from you. To distract himself from all the real power you had over him. He thought he could get you off his mind, and it did work for a while…

…..but like you said only moments before, things happen for a reason.

He suddenly had a huge wave of energy course through him, and he felt like he could spit fire (he actually has done that before, but that’s a different story). His body was vibrating with energy, so much so he couldn’t sit still.

I have to talk to Y/N. I have to get to Y/N.

The plan was already forming in his mind.

“Reyna!” Leo shouted. “Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!” he said while actually jumping around like a crazy person.

“No problem hermano,” Reyna yelled back.

“Don’t let her down!”

Part 2 coming soon :) if you’d like to be added to the tag list please feel free to ask!! I’d love to add you!

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @spacemochi-x @acciocriativity

#leo #leo valdez x you #leo valdez headcanons #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez imagine #leo valdez smut #leo valdez one shot #leo valdez fanart #leo valdez fanfiction #leo valdez #hoo x reader #hoo imagines #hoo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fanfic #pjo #toa x reader #toa #toa spoilers

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

The Devil’s Own.

Jungkook x OC

Mafia Au!

Warnings : Non-Con ! Manipulation, Degradation, Shitty hero with no redeeming Qualities you have been warned. ( i mean he does get better but not much.)

Summary : Just Mob Boss Jungkook doing mob boss things.

Chapter 1

“ Sign it. ”

I glared at him, feeling sick at the tone. The entitlement.

“No.” I said sharply and I could feel his anger swelling, morphing into something dangerous and deadly but I couldn’t care anymore. I was tired. Exhausted. This cat and mouse game had gone on , long enough. It wasn’t an even playing field, in any sense of the qword.

If today was the day I died, so be it. I would accept it. I would even welcome it.

I was done.

He had everything : an empire at his beck and call , enough money to pave the streets of Seoul in gold and an army of loyal associates behind him. His face was plastered on Billboards across the country , the President posted pictures of him on his fucking SNS and delegates from other countries had to wait weeks , just to get an appointment with the youngest billionaire South Korea had ever seen.

And yet none of those white collared dignitaries saw this side of him. The dirty, violent ruthless man who had more blood on his hands than anyone else in the country. My father’s. My brothers’.

Jeon Jungkook was both the most revered business man in the country and the undisputed king of Seoul’s criminal underbelly.

“You defiance only makes me want to break you in other ways Elena.” He said warningly and I felt my throat go dry. I stared at him, wondering how someone could look so expensively gorgeous and yet, like a hardened criminal.

The expensive silk shirt, the fitted slacks and the handmade shoes ought to clash with the dark ink that covered his entire arm and neck, the piercing on his eyebrow and the glint of metal on his tongue but it didn’t.

It just all came together to make him the most attractive man in existence.

I took a deep breath. Perhaps begging was the way to go?

“ You have my father’s company. You have my brother’s Hospital and you have the family mansion. It’s all yours. This bakery belongs to my mother. It’s all I have left of her. My sister in law is pregnant , due any day. She needs a place to stay and I don’t… I don’t have money to rent anywhere else.” I said desperately, thinking of the paltry wage I earned waiting tables. I could barely afford food for myself let alone for Jisoo and the baby on the way.

The bakery was abandoned but it had a roof. The furniture was crumbling but I could fix that. If I didn’t have to worry about rent, I could save up enough to make it livable. At least till I got a better job.

“I’ve offered you solutions for all of that.” He reminded me softly, eyes trained unblinkingly on me and I stared at him.

“I’m not going to be your whore.” I felt my voice shake.

He grimaced.

“You aren’t qualified to be my whore. And I don’t need one either. Whores are not my thing. I have a beautiful fiancée, don’t you remember? ” He grinned. I felt my heart ache because that fiancée was once my best friend. The only person I had trusted with my entire life. Lisa had betrayed my trust, had spied on my father’s operations and brought him down and I had the horrible, horrible inkling that she had also had something to do with my father and brother’s untimely death in a car crash.

But I couldn’t think about that. Every time I thought about her my heart broke and head spun, and I had to be at my maximum mental capacity if I was going to deal with her heartless fiancée.

“ If you ask me, you’re not fit for anything more than a back alley blowjob for a couple bucks. But Hoseok thinks you have potential. Join his agency, there are a lot of very wealthy men who have a bone to pick with your father. He made a shit ton of enemies. Most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of you. ”

His words felt like worms crawling all over my skin and I could feel the nausea churn inside me.

“I’m not signing the bakery over. You can call the creditors. I still have another year and half to pay the one remaining loan and they won’t come for me till then.” I felt my head begin to throb and Jungkook sighed.

“Suit yourself.” He stood up and I stayed still, watching his tall frame tower over me with ease. He gave me a small bitter smile. It was fraught with hatred and I stared back at him, knowing the emotion was probably mirrored in my gaze.

“Beautiful Elena. As pretty as the day you left me at the altar.” He smirked and I flushed.

“Your vengeance is petty and pointless and unfair…just like you.” I said angrily, frustration building u at his words. The way he talked about our broken engagement like it even mattered. It hadn’t even been real. We had hardly spoken and my father had called the wedding off at the last moment. But apparently, that had been the last straw for the Jeons. They had come after my father’s entire existence with a single minded intent to destroy him and they had succeeded. The man was dead . His two sons were dead.

But apparently it wasn’t enough.

Jungkook stared at me, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Maybe. But it’s also deadly and potent. And it won’t rest until I see you reduced to nothing but a whore on the streets, spreading your legs for every man who can afford you.” He laughed. “ Saying no is a luxury , one that you’ll soon be unable to afford.”

I refused to be cowed, refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words scared me. Because they did.

They scared me so damn much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This bed is so lumpy… I’m so sorry, unnie..” I said apologetically but Jisoo shook her head quickly, palms cupping my face as I held her elbows, gently lowering her to the bed. I stared at her feet, feeling my heart race at how swollen they looked. That can’t be normal, a voice whispered and

I didn’t know if that was normal and I had no money to take her to a clinic. The social center we usually went to only allowed three visits per month and we had used it all up. I wanted to throw caution to the wind and spend the thirty thousand won it would take but that would mean no groceries for a week and surely bread and eggs wouldn’t stretch that long, even if I could sneak meals in the restaurant for myself.

“I’ve been feeling a little dizzy…I’ll just sleep.” She said tiredly. She was thirty six weeks along, not due for another four weeks but her blood pressure was erratic. Her lab numbers were oscillating and there had been talks of an emergency c section. Even with insurance it was way more than I could afford but I had my own jewelry, a few expensive trinkets from my teenage years. I’d been obsessed with diamonds and my father had indulged me and I had a pair of earrings left. I’d already sold the rest but this would take care of the medical bills for the birth itself.

“My shift starts in ten minutes. I have to go. Give me a call if you need anything…” I said softly and I saw the familiar blank and listless look come into her eyes. I knew she was depressed, dealing with grief and pregnancy and loss but there was nothing I could do for her. Nothing. I had applied for a bunch of other jobs but they never wrote back. It wasn’t easy, being rejected over and over again but it wasn’t like there was much else I could do. And the truth was I was resigned to this, accepted that at some point I would have to take more loans and be stuck in an endless cycle of debt for the rest of my life.

And I had made peace with that.

There was no future for me. And I was okay with just surviving.

If only Jungkook would let me.

Apparently, watching me wipe down greasy tables and mop up floors and toilets trying to earn just enough to get a few square meals didn’t soothe his anger. It only fueled it. Jungkook couldn’t fathom that it had been six whole months of me on the streets of Seoul and I wasn’t completely destitute yet. I’d kept myself and my sister in law alive, safe and it pissed him off.

He wanted to see me broken and on my knees, begging him for help. The idea of me somehow surviving despite him taking everything away from me, it just didn’t sit well with him.

I couldn’t afford to have him as an enemy so all I could really hope was that one day he would wake up and give up. One day he would just wake up and decide that I wasn’t worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I walked into my shift and noticed a familiar pair of high heeled Louboutins , completely out of place in my seedy place of employment, I knew I was in trouble. Lisa sat against one of the booths and her gaze was fixated on the door which meant she was waiting for someone. And when her eyes narrowed at the sight of me, I just knew I was the someone.

She wants to get me fired.

It wasn’t rocket science and I felt the urge to turn right back around and leave. But I tamped down on it. I could get through this. I would get through this. Lisa and Jungkook got off on invoking reactions and I wouldn’t give them that.

Except it wasn’t that easy.

It was a nightmare, watching her demand and reject and walk all over me but the sleeplessness from the past few days made spacing out easier and I just stared away at the wall as she yelled and complained and made a scene.

“You’ve stopped fighting? Finally giving up? Good…” She hissed when the manager apologized to her and told me to meet him after my shift and I felt myself tremble in indignation.

“I won’t fight you or Jungkook, you and I both know I can’t afford to.” I said quietly and she went still, something flashing in her eyes for a second. It was gone before I could fully process it but it had been there. Guilt.

Lisa wasn’t a terrible human. She had been a dear friend. We had grown up together and she had even hugged and teased me when I’d been betrothed to Jungkook, all those years ago. I had been twenty back then, naïve and spoiled. While Jungkook had taken my father’s entire legacy apart, piece by piece, Lisa had been nothing more than a pawn. I remembered all the times I had let her home, how she would disappear for lengths of time.

Planting bugs all over the house. All over his office. Jungkook had been smart. Someone like Lisa, so fascinated by thr wealth she had grown up around would naturally jump at the idea of more. It wasn’t greed. It was human nature. And with her help he had destroyed everything my father had built over decades.

I shuddered. My father hadn’t been a good man. He had been greedy, yes. But he hadn’t deserved to die. And Jungkook would have to pay for that sin, someday.

“There’s a job waiting for you in Hoseok’s club.” She smiled cruelly , “ you don’t need this one.”

“The fact that you want to take it away from me, tells me that maybe there’s nothing left in you save.” I said blankly and she turned her nose up at me.

“I have Jungkook. I don’t need to be saved.”

I shook my head. She was so naïve. Men like Jungkook cared for nothing but themselves. But I wondered if women like her didn’t care for anything but the money that came with being his. Money was precious, I thought bitterly. I’d never realized how privileged I had been until I’d had it all ripped away.

“He’s the one you need saving from. And one day you’ll realize that.” I shrugged, not in the mood to offer her anymore life advice. If she was alright with being a trophy wife in exchange for a few pretty shoes that was her prerogative.

Before she could reply, my phone rang.

“Hello?” I asked nervously and I felt my heart drop to my knees when I heard who it was.

I turned on my heel rushing inside and my manager gave me a look of surprise.

“ My sister..she’s… she’s sick. I need to go.” I said desperately and his eyes narrowed. It was the worst timing. He was already annoyed because of Lisa and I stared in disbelief as he quickly shook his head.

“No. I’m sorry Elena…I just can’t let you leave like that…” He said sharply.

It was so unfair.

“I haven’t taken a single day off in five months…” I said desperately..” Please, she’s pregnant..She needs me, she-“

“If you leave, you won’t have a job to come back to. I can’t do this.. First you make trouble with a customer and now you just want to walk out in the middle of your shift without any notice…”

“Fine. Fire me.” I snapped, because I’d just had enough of it. I was exhausted, and tomorrow I’d go knocking on some other tore and I’d get a job. I lived in Seoul …How hard could it be? For now, I had to get to Jisoo. I had to get the hospital and things would be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t okay.

“I… You want to keep her in? So soon?”

“Her blood pressure is through the roof. There are signs of severe pre eclampsia and we want to get her started on a magnesium drip. Steroids to help the baby’s lungs incase we need to deliver…”

“Deliver..?” I couldn’t breathe.

“Yes, I’m sorry…. If her blood pressure doesn’t come down we’re going to have to deliver.”

I nodded, glancing at the bed where Jisoo was sleeping, her face swollen and I knew that she was sick. Really sick. She looked pallid and ill.

“Is she going to be okay?” I asked hoarsely.

“We’re going to do what we can… But I’m going to be honest, we’re looking at a c section, a lot of meds and also some time in the NICU for the baby…. Can you afford it? Your sister’s insurance only covers 80% .”

I blinked, completely thrown. White noise rushed through my ears, a dull throb settling right at the base of my skull and beginning to spread all the way to my arms and back. It was panic mixed wth anxiety mixed with despair and I couldn’t quite cope. The earrings wouldn’t cover all that.

“Oh… Oh..yeah.” I said dully, “ Of course I can… Let me just…. Can I have a moment? There’s somethings I need to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I carefully slipped the cash into the envelope, swallowing as I sat on the pavement. I’d got another call from the hospital, they had administered the steroids but Jisoo’s condition seemed to be worsening. They wanted to try inducing labour soon but they wanted me to pay for the room and for the medicines, and apparently, the earrings weren’t as valuable as I thought they were.

I fought nausea wrapping arms around myself as I stared at the cars whizzing by, the putrid city air clogging my lungs as I tried to come to terms with what was happening. Jisoo needed help. She was the only one left and she carried my brother’s son. I felt my throat clog when I thought of Daehwan. He had been a good guy. I had loved him. It wasn’t fair, what Jungkook had done to my family, I thought miserably .

And the only reason I wasn’t driven by vengeance or anger was because I was nothing like Jungkook. I hated him. I didn’t want him to live in my head, didn’t want to waste any part of myself on him , not even my anger. But it was hard when he wouldn’t let me breathe, always at my heels like a wolf : jaws snapping and blood thirsty eyes trained on me at all times. I couldn’t fathom his obsession sometimes. Surely, his hatred was uncalled for now? He’d taken everything from me anyway.

There was a dull roaring in my ears, one that said that this was not really a surprise. I’d thought about it way too often, had considered it countless times. Had even spent one absolutely horrifying evening scouring the streets of Seoul’s red light district just to see how sex workers behaved.

I’d also realized that in the face of desperation, dignity didn’t hold much value.

You are going to pay your debts on your back and on your knees.

The first time Jungkook had thrown it at my face, eyes glinting with glee, my stomach had rebelled so hard. I’d been absolutely infuriated, had thrown a vase at him. And it had been awful, watching him catch it out of the air with ease, his mocking laughter making my bones rattle as he shook his head, “ That’s how this ends, Elena. Mark my words.”

And it was pitiful , that he went through life so consumed with hatred and vindictive cruelty that he couldn’t leave me alone . He was pathetic. That’s how I saw him. A pathetic child who refused to stop tormenting the helpless ant on the floor although it was no match for his cruelty.

At some point Jungkook was going to win. And his idea of winning was seeing me stripped bare of the one thing that kept me alive : my freedom.

It had just happened sooner than I’d thought.

Because I knew what it would mean, to go to Hoseok. He would own me. Hoseok’s whores were all slaves, tangled in his web so badly that there was no hope of escape. He wasn’t cruel but he was smart. No one left the his ‘ agency’ once they went in. I would be lost, forever. And I couldn’t stomach it.

I stared at my knees, fists clenched on the fabric of my skirt. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through the contacts. I considered it carefully. I had to do this on my terms. Had to make sure I retained some sort of control here.

And I knew just how to do it.

Hoseok picked up on the third ring.

“Hello.”

“I need help.” I croaked out.

The deep chuckle made my skin crawl.

“Elena Gong. What a wonderful, wonderful surprise. What can I do you for?” He drawled.

“Well sweetheart, I’m all out of charity so you’re going to have to make it worth my while.”

I took a deep breath.

“I’m a virgin.” I whispered.

The line went completely silent.

“What?” The amusement in his voice died.

“You heard me and I’ll let you cash in on it. I’ll let you auction it off…” I tamped down on the burning protest in my lung, the screaming inside my head that said it was horrifying, that I was considering this. “ But only if you keep my terms.”

“What makes you think you have a say in that.” He said sharply and I laughed.

“I belong to your world, Hoseok. Did you forget that we were friends, once.” I whispered and he didn’t reply.

Laughter, kindness, a big brother I could always count on, hobi oppa, nine year old me with my fingers curled around his wrist as we ran all around the gardens , a smile so wide that he could spread sunshine on the gloomiest days. Different from Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi and the others. Willing to include a ‘ girl’ in his playtime. Lisa and I the only girls, not even fazed watching as the rest of them wielded toy guns and mock interrogation scenes, pretending to kill and maim and torture because that was the world we were born into.

“We’re not friends, Elena. Let’s get that straight. The only part of you that holds any value to me is th part between your legs. So tell me, what do you want.”

“When was the last time you auctioned off someone’s virginity? You know how much money you can make off something like that. Not just from the sale itself but from the entire night. Your club… Your gaming hell…. All of it.”

“You expect me to believe you’re a virgin. At twenty seven.” He scoffed.

“Put the word out, everywhere. If you find one man who says he’s slept with me , I’ll back off.”

“That would require me to tarnish your family name. And you’re alright with that?”

I smiled biotterly.

“Isn’t that what you and your precious Jungkookie want? To see the last living Gong, be labeled as a whore and a slut.”

He didn’t reply.

“I’ll give you that. You can do it… You know that will only interest more people. As Jungkook so eloquently put it, most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of me.”

“What’s the catch. What do you want. ”

“2 billion won.” I said firmly “It will be one night. One night only and I want enough money to pay off every one of my father’s debts, to get me an apartment for my sister in law and to support her and her baby for a year at least.”

“Done.” He said without missing a beat and I went still. What must it be like, to throw around money like that without a care in the world. And it sickened me that Jungkook was probably ten times as rich as Hoseok , the money my father owed him and his associates not even pocket change in comparison to his gargantuan wealth and yet, he stayed on my heels, snapping his jaws like a dog with a bone.

“And Jungkook doesn’t get to watch.” I said softly, knowing exactly what Jungkook would get off on.

That made Hoseok laugh.

“You know him too well. I keep forgetting he was madly in love with you once.”

I resisted the urge to vomit. Jungkook didn’t know love. He knew ownership. He didn’t love me, he thought he owned me. That I was his to play with…. For the rest of his life. And when my father had denied him that, just like a toddler in a toy store being denied a shiny toy to break and trample on, he had thrown a temper tantrum.

Except his tantrums always ended in death and destruction.

“That’s the deal. He doesn’t turn up there to gloat.”

“He’s heading out to Switzerland for a week , two days from now.” Hoseok said evenly.

“Good then. My sister in law…she “ I swallowed. “ She’s in a hospital in Yongsan. I’ll send you the address.”

“I’ll take care of it. But I want you here tonight. I’m not going to drop a couple billion won on your head without making sure I’m getting my money’s worth. And I can’t have you changing your mind and bolting either. My reputation is on the line here. If I put out the word that I’m serving something so fucking delicious and then back out, they’re not going to want to buy Hobi’s wares anymore. You understand what I’m saying darling?” Hoseok drawled and I knew exactly what he was saying. If I agreed to this, it was blanket consent for him to whatever he wanted.

“I won’t back out. I can’t. But this is one night. One night with whichever bastard you choose and that’s it. I want out. I don’t want you or Jungkook hounding me again. Ever.” My voice shook as I dug my fingers into my knees.

“My men will be there in ten minutes. Sit tight, princess.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stared at Hoseok as he carefully poured me a finger of whiskey, neat. He gave me a smirk and I shrugged.

“you remember.” I said casually, throat itching because it had been way too long since I’d had quality alcohol. I missed the burn, the warmth , the numbness that followed.

“Of course I do. You could drink all of us under the table with little effort. It was spectacular.” He laughed and I leaned back against the couch, letting my head fall back.

“I was half certain that you would have a doctor around to make sure I’m a virgin.” I stared at him and he shrugged. “ Pointless. You’re twenty seven, you’ve probably had stuff up there anyway… Not like your hymen’s still going to be intact.”

I thought it was rather horrifying, that I didn’t feel nearly as mortified as I should. This was how Hoseok talked, matter of fact and open and that was why he was so popular. Anytime an important person came into the country, Hobi was the one who offered entertainment for the night. Hobi’s girls were always the prettiest, most well behaved and perfect. They were educated, knew what they were talking about and he didn’t force them into the life. They loved it, enjoyed it and it showed.

Not to say he was a saint.

Far from it.

Hoseok knew how to dine with kings in castles but also how to wrestle with swine in the gutter. The seedy brothels in Seoul’s back alleys were his as well, and he ruled his kingdom with an iron hand. The prostitutes there feared him, one look or word enough to silence any rebellion, any thought of escape.

He was called Hope. And yet somehow that was exactly what he denied the women under him. There was no hope here. There was only lust and power and money. You came to Hobi…. You never left .

I took the glass he offered, taking a small sip, savoring the taste.

“But you believe me. I wonder why.” I watched him closely and he scoffed.

“Between your father and Jungkook, no one ever really had the pluck to come anywhere near you did they?”

Undisputable.

I sighed, leaning back to stare at him.

“Do you think dying hurts?” I asked softly.

It was frightening, how his entire body went stiff, eyes wide and jaw dropping.

“Elena, what the fuck-“

“Its just a question. You’ve killed people. You’ve watched them die… how do you think they feel?” I asked , curious.

“None of them wanted to die. If that’s what you’re asking.” The look in his eyes made me nervous.

I stared at him and the question was obvious. None of them wanted to die, but do you?

I didn’t.

“I’m not thinking of killing myself , oppa. Stop looking so horrified.” I laughed. He shook his head.

“ Don’t joke about that. It’s not fucking funny.”

I sobered up, remembering with a jolt. Ah, of course.

“I’m sorry. I forgot.” I said quietly.

Hoseok’s little sister had killed herself when I was seventeen. She was a year older than me and her father had lost her in a wager to a seventy year old man, known for torturing his bedmates. She had heard the news, taken a deep breath and taken a deep dive off the seventeeth floor of the condo where she lived with her mother.

I’d been engaged to Jungkook by then. And I had almost wanted it. Jungkook wasn’t old at least… twenty one to my seventeen.

“Just so you know, he’s going to find out. And he’s not going to like it.”

I shrugged. Three years is a long time to be preyed upon and now my mind was resigned to a life of being hunted. Hoseok was right. Jungkook would find out and he wouldn’t like it.

Good.

“I don’t care what he does anymore. All I care is that Jisoo and the baby are left out of whatever plans he has…. If you promise me you’ll keep them safe , I’ll cooperate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a baby boy.

I stared, fingers itching to hold the baby but it was impossible, the little one whisked away to the NICU right after with respiratory distress and Jisoo had gone into a seizure, eyes rolling back into her eyes.

She as alright now, resting in a VIP room with the best care money could buy. Hoseok had asked me if I was happy with the arrangements, and if I would name the boy after him.

I stared at the room, large and breezy and filled with flowers and gifts, toys and baby stuff and I knew right then that I had sealed my fate. I was going to have to go through with this. I could imagine how much Jisoo would protest when she came to her senses. The only relief was that it would take her a few days to be good enough to fight or protest. But then this would all be over and done with.

Jungkook would leave this afternoon. His flight was at three.

I would reach the club at five. The patrons would arrive at seven.

One night, I reminded myself , staring at the gentle rise and fall of Jisoo’s chest as she slept, my fingers playing with the soft skin on her wrist. The IV line went through her veins and I watched the gentle drip of it.

One night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t know how auctions happened and while I’d been prepared for the worst kind of humiliation, Hoseok assured me that he wasn’t going to make me stand naked on some podium or something.

“Generally, I would do something like that simply for the flair of it but consider this a favor ….a respite because you were, as you said, once a friend.” He gave me an even smile and I could only nod in mute relief.

I was grateful. Beyond grateful.

And what was more, he hadn’t told anyone, who I was.

That stunned me. Because wasn’t that the selling point? The murderous, greedy mob rat Gong Hyo Suk’s only daughter forced to spread her legs for one lucky stranger? If Hoseok had cashed in on that he would have made a fortune. But he hadn’t. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Would , whoever it was be upset if he recognized me?

I was led to a bedroom, large and tastefully decorated with silky satin sheets and dark curtains and dim lighting that lit up parts of the room and left other parts plunged in darkness. Hoseok had told me to wear whatever I wanted and I realized with a pang that he really didn’t see this as some sort of transaction. He was trying to make it as easy as possible without making any decisions for me. Offering me choices and options and some illusion of being in control.

I didn’t have anything fancy so it was just a dress shirt that I borrowed from Hoseok. I’d left the underwear off, eager to merely get the whole thing over with. I felt a sudden overwhelming urge to laugh out loud.

If Jungkook were here he really would have lost his damn mind, simply because of how little this whole thing affected me. And that was it, really. He was always desperate for a reaction.

Earlier when this whole thing had started, I’d obliged him with that. I would scream, rant and yell….launch myself at him like a wildcat, scratching at him , fists flying and it was obscene, how much he seemed to enjoy that. He would press me up against walls and tables , fingers choking the breath out of my lung, just so he could see me struggle and push back.

He fed off from every negative reaction I offered him and it had taken me a long long time that the way to beat him was to become passive, unresponsive. I would go limp in his arms, stare at him blankly as he tried to manhandle me and that…that had pissed him off. Because that meant I wasn’t playing his game anymore.

If the prey wasn’t playing, the game wasn’t fun anymore. It was drab.

Boring.

And I knew that Jungkook kept raising the stakes, kept tightening the noose around my neck….just to bring that girl out again. The one that had wanted to put up a fight . The one that wanted to mouth off even with the muzzle of a gun pressed against her head. The one who would spit in his face in front of all his associates, even if it earned her a vicious strike of his hand across her face.

I shuddered. They weren’t memories I liked reliving.

Well, if that was who he wanted, I’d make sure he would never see her again.

The door opening made me jump and Hoseok came in , with a wide grin on his face.

“Baby…. Your guest for the night.” He said softly and I peered over his shoulders, my heart and mind grinding to a halt when I caught sight of what had to be the most breathtakingly beautiful man on the face of the planet.

I felt my heart begin to pound, fear taking over because this wasn’t okay. Not really. I was okay with old, creepy and disgusting , not able to get it up for more than ten minutes.

I wasn’t okay with someone who looked like they stepped right out of the latest issue of GQ.

Hoseok left quickly, closing the door behind him and the man stepped into the light, the brightness lighting up his perfect features even more. I felt my throat go dry, and fought the urge to get up and run. Growing up as the daughter of a mobster , I’d learned how to trust my instincts over appearances.

And right now, every single one of those instincts screamed at me that this man was absolutely dangerous.

“Well, you are beautiful. I’ll give you that. “ He said casually.

“Thank you.” I said stiltedly, watching as he tugged on his tie, pulling it off his neck deftly . Instead of tossing it aside , he wrapped it a bunch of times around his wrist over and over as he smiled at me.

“Don’t thank me yet. The only reason I like beautiful things is because of how easily they break.” He smiled. “ I haven’t been with a virgin in a while…. I miss the screams.”

And there it was the full blown panic that came with stark terror. I crawled back on the bed, staring as he moved closer and there was no mistaking the look on his face, the harsh grip of his hand on my ankle telling me that I was going to regret every one of the choices that led me here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hoseok wasn’t at the airport.” Jungkook observed casually, glancing at Yoongi as the latter finished cleaning his gun carefully, eyes fixed on his weapon with utmost concentration.

“He’s holding some sort of auction tonight. Some chick …” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook hummed. It was not the kind of thing he was interested in. Anonymous bids were often boring : actresses or female idols past their prime, desperate to make some money to survive. He had no interest in those but he was a little peeved that Hoseok hadn’t told him anything about it.

Hoseok was one of Jungkook’s most trusted friends. He was almost as powerfully rich as Jungkook and the only reason Jungkook reigned supreme was because Hoseok had no interest in challenging him for the throne. Hoseok was dangerous and cunning and loyal and Jungkook was grateful to have him on his side and he had hoped to see him before leaving. Just to ask him to keep an eye on Elena.

He grimaced, hating himself.

God, he couldn’t go two hours without thinking of her. It fucked with his head, the amount of space she took up inside him. Jungkook , for all his wealth and power, was driven solely by his need to prove himself. He wanted to be powerful and terrifying yes, but more than that , he wanted people to know.

He wanted people to look him in the eye and acknowledge him for what he was : the most dangerous man in the country. He liked seeing that fear, that worship, that admiration. He got off on it. He wanted it , craved it and for some reason he craved it more from her , than anyone else.

And instead of giving him what he wanted, instead of begging on her knees for mercy, instead of licking his shoes and begging for him to let her live….she ignored him. She looked at him with defiance and pride, her chin straight and her back unbending, her gaze locked right on him like she was his fucking equal….

And Jungkook, he’d taken a lot of insults. Taken more than his fair share of hits in life …..

But when she looked at him like that , like he was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe….

Fuck it drove him wild with fury.

It made him want to teach her a fucking lesson, to remind her that he owned her because he owned everything. To break her down, snuff out the flames of defiance that burned so bright in those ember eyes… Take her into his bed and brand her with his body. Till she was on the floor, on her knees covered in his spit and cum begging for mercy….

Because no one looked at Jeon Jungkook like that and lived to tell the tale..

“Seokjin’s here. Landed in Korea a couple of hours ago. ” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook smiled a bit at that. He loved his older brother, technically a step brother and growing up he had only saw him when he visited his mother in China. That meant a couple of months a year and now as adults, a bit more often because Seokjin loved Jungkook and liked to visit him often.

Seokjin was a celebrity trainer, working with actors and athletes and he did a good amount of modeling as well. He was rich, handsome and well liked and the only thing that gave away the Jeon blood in him was the fact that he was a sexual sadist.

The face of an angel with a devilish streak, he had a penchant for sadism and inflicting pain on his partners and while Jungkook didn’t particularly enjoy indulging him, he knew there were women who were into that and usually had them arranged for when Seokjin dropped by in Korea. His hyung’s visit seldom lasted more than a few weeks at a time and it was a pity that he would miss out one whole week of it .

But the issue in Switzerland was a little pressing and Jungkook had to be there in person to sort it out.

He leaned back against the seat, staring out of the window, sighing.

“An unsullied dove ….What the fuck is this shit..” Yoongi muttered and Jungkook turned, curious.

“What?”

“Hoseok’s been hyping up some new girl for the auction and Seokjin hyung’s bidding on her.”

Jungkook laughed at that.

“Jungkook…..” Yoongi’s voice is completely stunned, his eyes confused as he looks up at Jungkook.” Its Elena.”

Jungkook’s thought process came to a grinding halt.

There’s a sound between his ears, a dull rushing sound like the wind in a storm and he can’t quite comprehend what he just heard. Even Namjoon who had been buried in his laptop , looked up then, tugging an airpod out of his ear.

“Wait…did you say Elena?” His eyes were wide , lips parted in shock. Yoongi and Namjoon exchanged glances, no doubt bracing themselves for the explosion that was to follow.

Jungkook took a deep breath.

“Turn the fucking plane around.”

That jolted Namjoon out of his stunned stupor..

“Turn-? Jungkook what…. We’re on a fourteen hour flight-“ Namjoon began but the look on Jungkook’s face made him stop.

“DID I FUCKING STUTTER?”

Namjoon swore.

“Fucking hell… alright just calm the fuck down, Jesus…just put a fucking bullet in that girl’s head and spare us all the headache fuck…” He growled, unbuckling his seat belt and rushing to the cockpit and Yoongi groaned.

“ Let me guess you want me to get in touch with someone in Seoul and ask Hoseok to hold off on letting Seokjin near her…”

Jungkook glared at him.

“If you already know that why the fuck are you still here…” He growled and Yoongi gave him a look.

“Just tell her you’re in love with her and let us live, Jeon Jungkook.”

In love….. what the fuck….

He glared at Yoongi’s back, his asinine words making him madder. God he wanted to crush someone’s skull into dust with his bare hands.

And right now, in his head , that skull belonged to Jung fucking Hoseok.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What just happened?” I asked, frantic staring at the door as Hoseok’s men casually led a fuming Seokjin away while the man himself stared at me, looking pale as parchment.

“ Jungkook found out.” He said shortly and I felt my heart drop although I was half relieved because there had been something insane in Kim Seokjin’s gaze when he’d reached for me , a cruel glint of hunger that told me he would have hurt me really badly if Hoseok hadn’t barged into the room , frantic and worried.

He had given Seokjin a wide smile and then, “ I’m so sorry. We were waiting on her blood results and turns out she has a…. well, certain occupational disease that is very infectious.”

Seokjin’s mouth had dropped open even wider than mine.

“I thought she was a fucking virgin.” He had snapped, and I flinched at how cold and furious he had sounded.

But apparently there was a reason this whole thing had happened.

“What do you mean Jungkook knows? What does that mean?” I asked frantically, fear taking over.

“ He’s heading back here… He wants to see you.”

I felt my entire body go ice cold as I shook my head…

“No…fucking no bring Seokjin back here , he can fuck me that was the fucking deal, Hobi, please don’t../…”

“Elena , I’m so fucking sorry.. Seokjin…he’s fucked in the head…. He likes hurting his whores, likes making them bleed and he would have fucking destroyed you…”

I gaped at him horrified.

“What?!” I hissed shaking my head in disbelief.

“He’s Jungkook’ stepbrother. I’ve arranged whores for him before, I knew he was a little crazy but I’d never seen him before and I didn’t know he was the Kim Seokjin…fuck he outbid everyone and fucker looks like a fucking angel, how the fuck was I supposed to know he’s unhinged? Thankfully, I messaged Yoongi and …. Fuck… Listen… I know I paid for your sister’s surgery but you’re going to have to pay me back….”

I felt my body convulse in rebellion.

“I can’t.. You know I fucking can’t…”

“I can’t make an enemy out of Jungkook…. I can’t.” Hoseok shook his head. “ You can get out of here now if you want but I’d advise you to stay. If you run it’s only going to make Jungkook angrier.”

“WHAT DID I FUCKING DO TO HIM?!!!” I screamed, feeling my composure crumble into smithereens. “WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE WANT FROM ME?!!”

Hoseok flinched, stepping back and holding his hands up.

“Whether I want to or not, I answer to Jungkook. I shouldn’t have done this in the first place , I’m sorry Elena.” He shook his head and stepped back like the coward that he was and I wanted to hurt him. To shake him and ask him to fucking remember who I was. That I had nothing to do with my father’s sins . That I had been a fucking marionette in his hands, had wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

I stared at him in disbelief.

“So much for being a friend…” I whispered.

His jaw tightened. But he didn’t look guilty. None of them ever did. It was like guilt didn’t exist in their world. They did what they wanted to whoever they wanted , whenever they wanted and they got away with it because that bastard’s word was law. What Jeon Jungkook wanted, he got.

“I’ll get your clothes sent in.”

I watched him leave, the door slamming shut behind him and sagged against the bed, staring at myself. What had just happened?

Was I born to endless misery and misfortune?

Couldn’t I catch a fucking break?

I’d agreed to sell myself hadn’t I? Would have even let Seokjin hurt me if that was what he wanted. Because it was one night. It was one night of this…whatever the hell this was and then freedom. That was the deal.

The door opened again and I stared as a young girl brought me a pile of my clothes neatly folded.

“Do you work here?” I said sharply.

She blinked before bowing her head.

“Yes, mistress.”

I scoffed.

“Don’t call me mistress , I’m here to get fucked, just like you. Tell me does Jungkook ever use the women here.” I demanded.

She looked trapped, glancing at the door, clearly wanting to run .

“Tell me.” I snapped and she flinched.

“I..uh..yes. Sometimes.” She said softly.

“Can you tell whoever fucks him next to kick him in the fucking balls?”

The girl bowed deeply and all but ran out and I sighed, feeling myself shaking. Jungkook was on the way here and I wanted to yell and scream and rave at him but I knew that was exactly what he wanted. I wanted to deny him the satisfaction …wanted to act all cool and composed in front of him but it was impossible…

Because I hadn’t realized just how tired I was of this whole thing, till right this moment, when the end had been in sight. I was supposed to get my two billion won pay off all the debt , give Jisoo the rest of the money and disappear. I was so tired, so tired of this life I’d gotten trapped into, slaving over for hours on end just to afford a couple of meals a day. No friends, no boyfriends, no hope of a future …..

The door banged open and I jumped, crawling back when I recognized the man who had just entered.

“Yoongi-“

“Jungkook wants to see you.” He ground out and I swallowed.

“I need to get dressed. Please just wait outside.” I said shakily.

And then the door opened further and a tall looming shadow stepped in familiar and vomit inducing.

Jungkook looked livid, piercing glinting through the dimply lit room and I stared at him. He was dressed in a tight black t shirt, he sleeves stretched thin over his biceps and the tattoos stark against his skin.

“Leave us.” He said softly and Yoongi moved away to the door leaving me alone with the devil himself. I cursed myself for not putting at least my panties on, I was naked underneath this shirt and although it was big it left nothing to the imagination.

Jungkook’s eyes raked over my form before resting on my face.

“You think you’re smart enough to outsmart me, Elena?” He whispered softly.

I swallowed.

“Send you brother back in. He can fuck me and I’ll pay you back.”

Jungkook hummed, stepping closer and grabbing my clothes from the bed, he grabbed the plain white bra and the pastel pink underwear and then to my complete and utter mortification he brought the clothing up to his face, breathing in .

“Fucking pervert!!!” I screamed, feeling the action like a physical touch and wanting to claw his eyes out and the smirk on his face told me that this was exactly what he wanted but I was too fucking gone to care.

“If you want me to be a whore, fine. I’ll be a whore. But on my terms…” I spat out and he shook his head, laughing.

“I don’t just want you to be a whore, Elena. I want everyone to know that you are one…” He dropped my clothes and moved closer, holding a hand out. “ Come here.”

I stared at the inked fingers, adorned with sterling silver rings and bracelets with the motifs of his gang. I shook my head.

“No. I’m not playing this game with you.” I turned my face away.

His hand shot out gripping my upper arm with enough strength to bruise and I screamed, agony shooting up my arm and shoulders as he dragged me off the bed and onto the floor. I landed hard, hips and elbows bruising from impact and I stared at him in disbelief.

“I’ve been to gentle with you. You’ve forgotten your fucking place.” He bent over and grabbed me by my hair, yanking me to my feet so hard that it felt like my scalp had been ripped away from my skull.

“Okay…okay…Okay Jungkook..just…!!” I said softly, flinching because my pain tolerance was almost zero and Jungkook’s grip was so hard that my eyes were beginning to water now. He let me go, grabbing my panties off the floor and tossing them at me.

“I’m going to count to five. Put those on and get out.”

He walked out of the door and I stumbled a little fumbling with the fabric before quickly, slipping my legs in and yanking it up to my waist. I made to put on something else but his voice came, loud and impatient.

“Get the fuck out here.”

I walked out of the door and he was standing there next to Hoseok. I couldn’t meet either of their gazes , hating how they had so much power over my life. I stared at the floor. It was tempting to yell at them and scream but that never led anywhere.

“ I’ve asked them to stop the payment on the Hospital bill. Seeing as Elena hasn’t kept her end of the bargain.”

I felt my breath hitch at that, willing down the tears as I glared at him.

“What do you want?” I snapped. “ Tell me who you want me to fuck…. I’ll do it. Let’s get this over with so you can go back to whatever sewer you fucking climbed out of. ….”

Hoseok’s breath caught like he couldn’t believe what I’d just said and the look in his eye was a warning but I was sick of this. Sick of them all.

Jungkook turned to Hoseok with a laugh.

“You see hyung? See why I can’t let her go? If I let her scot free, everyone’s going to think I’m a pushover….that any worthless bitch can talk to me any way she wants and get away with it….” He shook his head, staring at me with a glint in his eye. “ I’m not going to choose. They are. You think you can charm your way into Hoseok’s heart and get special treatment? You think you’re ready to be a whore, Elena? Let me show you how a real whore gets treated in Hoseok’s club.”

He gripped my wrist, yanking me behind him as he stalked off down the narrow corridor that opened up into the club. I let myself get dragged out into the club dismally aware of the fact that I was wearing nothing but Hoseok’s shirt. I could feel eyes on me but I kept mine on the back of Jungkook’s head as he dragged me all the way to the front. I knew what he was going to do and at this point I was just numb.

There was no point reasoning with the devil.

I glared at him as he pointed at the stage. “ Get up there.” He whispered harshly.

I stared back at him, not moving. I saw Jungkook’s jaw clench.

“Either you go up there by yourself, with your clothes on. Or I carry you up there, after stripping you naked. What’s it going to be? ”

I glared at him, pursing my lips before climbing up using the small stair in the side. I moved to the center, right in front of the stage lights, so the rest of the room would disappear. I had no wish to see any of the bastards in the room.

“I think all of you recognize this little beauty here, don’t you?” Jungkook’s voice was cheerful, friendly even and I bit my lips, fists clenched. “ Well, if you don’t let me tell you . This is Gong Hyo Suk’s daughter. Remember that bastard? He put a hit out on my father. Killed him and my mom on the night I was supposed to be marrying his fucking daughter. A daughter who later called off the wedding, because I was too poor now, to give her the life she deserved. ”

I felt the familiar ice cold guilt in my vein. I was seventeen, I wanted to scream. I was seventeen and all I did was say what my father asked me to say, do what my father asked me to do.

“ That was nine fucking years ago… and you know what I told myself…. I told myself, that a greedy little bitch like this, doesn’t deserve shit.” He laughed. “ If money’s what she values the most, then the only thing she deserves is to be treated like the whore she is.”

“Why don’t you guys tell me, how much money you’d be willing to spend, to fuck her? Come on, Hobi’s been treating you guys so well lets help him make some money tonight… be generous. ”

I could barely hear what they were calling out but when Jungkook climbed onto the stage next to me, I jumped. Moving back instinctively, I winced when brought a forearm around my throat nearly choking me as he dragged up against his body.

“90 million won….That’s a lot.” He grinned. “ Jihan hyung….. that was you right? You’re gonna pay 90 million won for her?”

I felt my heart race, it was a lot. More than enough for the Hospital Bills, would even leave extra to get a decent apartment somewhere... I grabbed his wrist as it pressed into my throat, trying to pull his hand off me but he just wrapped his free hand around my waist, wrapping his entire body around mine and chuckling into my hair.

Jungkook pressed his head against mine and I froze, hating the close contact.

“Okay…but since I’m feeling a bit left out here…Why don’t I pitch in… 500 Won.” Jungkook said loud and clear.

I froze. An eerie silence fell over the club, laughter stilling and the clink of glasses slowing down.

What.

I struggled to get away from his but his hold tightened.

“Anyone else?” He called out. “ Come on… Not even thousand? Surely you think this one here’s worth a thousand won? Aren’t you going to outbid me?”

No one responded of course they didn’t. Jungkook’s anger was palpable and no one was going to get on his wrong side …..

“Ahh… is that it then? Bid’s going to close for 500 won then…. Hear that baby?” He whispered against my ears and I swallowed. “ 90, million won to five hundred won in a few seconds… What does that tell you?”

“It tells me you’re a fucking psychopath in love with your own voice… Get off me.” I hissed.

“No. What it tells you is that only I get to decide how much that body of yours is worth, not you. . You don’t get to go sell your fucking body behind my back for two billion won and then pay off all your debts and ride off into the sunset, that is not how this works….”

I went limp in his arms fighting tears because he never played fair. Never.

“Hear that Hoseok-ah… I win her for the night for 500 won…fair and square…. Is that alright?” He called out into the darkness and I felt the first inkling of dread begin to seep in.

“No.. No… get off me.” I hissed and he laughed, dragging me off the stage with ease. I screamed, kicking out in disbelief.

Jungkook grinned at me, before grabbing both my arms and yanking them behind me, and I whimpered, unable to move as he easily pulled me along to the door that opened into the hallway. Behind us I heard Hoseok’s voice.

“Jungkook, don’t be impulsive. Think about whatever you’re going to do.”

I flinched at that, panic building.

“He’s not going to do anything. I’ll fucking kill him if he touches me , I-“

“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch.” He shook me hard till my teeth rattled and I sobbed out.

“Jungkook…” Hoseok warned but he merely snarled.

“I know what I’m doing hyung, just…. Don’t disturb us. And make sure everyone here knows that she’s open for business.” It was loud enough to carry through the club and I felt humiliation burn my throat, acrid like acid.

I froze in disbelief.

“Jungkook …” Hoseok’s voice held a tone of reproach.

“ And tell them that her body is amazing. Tell them she spent the night with me , the best fuck I’ve ever had , mouth made for cock.”

I stared straight ahead as he pulled me all the way to the room we had left earlier and I tripped when he shoved me inside, landing on my hands and knees . I quickly rolled back around to land on my ass, crawling back as he slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside.

He stared down at me, mouth grim.

“You do owe me a wedding night. I was so ready to fuck your tight cunt, nine years ago… I think I’ve waited long enough yeah.”

I stared at him in disbelief. I knew exactly what he wanted me to do, to yell and scream and protest and fight so he could get off and forcing me…. Fucking psychopath.

I took a deep breath and nodded.

“If you pay for my sister in laws bills, and give me an apartment sure. “ I shrugged. “You’re not any different from any of the bastards here. I don’t give a damn which one of you idiots wants to rut into me like the absolute animal that you are…. I don’t care…” I said softly.

“you don’t? Really? You want me to tell you what your brother said when one of my men put a gun into his mouth…. He begged for his life…said he had a kid on the way….” Jungkook laughed, shaking his head. “I told him it was better than what his father did…. My sister was six months pregnant when his lieutenant gunned her down on the streets.”

I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself.

“Why are you telling me this…” I snapped.

“Because she didn’t deserve it did she, Elena? She didn’t fucking deserve to die like that , like a dog on the street when she had nothing to do with any of this…. She didn’t deserve it.” He growled, bending down and gripping my chin hard.

“Maybe she did deserve it.” I spat out. “ If I deserve to be here, maybe your sister deserved to die too. “

He snarled, hand flying to my hair and dragging me up off the floor in one sharp yank. I whimpered as he pushed me on the bed, before climbing on top of me. I felt like every bone in my body was about to snap in two, the weight of him unbearable on me.

“I won the bid tonight…. I won it fair and square… You signed the waiver didn’t you…that you agreed to the auction…I won and I’m going to fucking collect.” He growled, and I kicked out, trying to buck him off of my body.

“Get off me.” I hissed. “ I’m not letting you fuck me for 500 won.”

“How about for your Jisoo then?” He whispered and I went still.

“What?”

He chuckled, reaching down and I felt my pulse pound as he pulled his phone out, dialing quickly and turning on the speakers.

Yoongi’s voice made me go ice cold. Everyone knew what Yoongi did for Jungkook.

“Daehwan’s wife is in a hospital room in Yongsan. Hobi’s got the details. I think she’s served her purpose.”

“No!! JUNGKOOK NO!!” I screamed , thrashing so hard my head began to spin but he grunted pressing down into me harder.

“Are you serious? I’m not home yet… I can take care of it tonight.” Yoongi said, voice casual and I sobbed, shaking my head in sheer terror.

“Okay… I’ll behave.. I promise.. please just don’t…”

Jungkook hummed.

“Well, that was easy… Yoongi-yah… why don’t you stay on the phone yeah…. Going to get that wedding night I’m owed and if my baby doesn’t co operate you know what to do, yeah?”

I bit my lips, glaring into the sheets as he gripped my waist, pulling me up.

“Ass up like the bitch that you are, baby.” He whispered and I felt my entire body shudder in disgust. It was worse because I hadn’t done this before. Didn’t know what to expect. But I couldn’t let him know that. If Jungkook knew that I was a virgin, I could just imagine how much fun he’d have with that info.

Hands gripped my wrists, pinning them to the bed and I turned my face away when I felt the press of his lips on my cheeks. He gripped both my wrists with one hand, keeping them pinned over my head and I flinched when I felt his fingers pulling the fabric of my panties aside, just enough for the blunt head of his cock to press against my slit.

“Yoongi, you there?” Jungkook said softly and Yoongi grunted over the phone. I felt my face flame in embarrassment.

“You’re a sick bastard but I’m used to it. What’s up?” he said casually.

“Remember how we used to wonder just how tight Elena’s cunt was… back when we were in school.”

Fucking monster, I thought in disbelief. I hate him I hate him I hate him….

“Good times…” Yoongi chuckled lightly .

Jungkook pushed into me in one hard thrust and pain shot straight up my spine, my insides burning like he’d fucked me with a knife and not his body. I couldn’t stop the cry of agony that got torn of me, my eyes tearing up and tears spilling over onto my cheeks.

“Damn Jungkook, she okay?” Yoongi’s chuckle made me want to claw his face off, and just the urge to kill was growing inside me.

“Well, I can confirm that it is, in fact just as tight as we thought…” He grunted, thrusting into me at a pace that was inhumane, every push and drag of him rubbing my insides raw and I bit down on the sheets under me, afraid that I would do something absolutely humiliating, like beg him to stop.

“Good, you should let me take that tight ass for a ride someday then. With her permission of course…. I’m a gentleman after all. Big on consent.” He laughed and I swallowed the urge to tell him that I would puncture his balls with a switchblade if he came anywhere near me.

“Oh, she’s going to do whatever I ask her to….aren’t you baby…” He grunted, “ Turn around so I can see you.”

He pulled out of me, his weight lifting off my body as he moved away. I couldn’t move, limbs numb and insides throbbing in pain . His palm landed on my thigh, hard and the sharp sting of it made me jump.

“I said turn around, I want to see your face when I fuck you.” Jungkook growled. I stayed limp, breathing hard and he grunted impatient, fingers sinking into my hair , yanking me to my knees and the movement made my legs scream in protest.

“How’s she so quiet? You fucked the voice out of her, kook-ah?” Yoongi asked amused and Jungkook pulled me by the hair, dragging me to the center and pushing me down till my head landed on the pillow.

“Hyung you should see her right now, all fucked out …. Like she’s never had a dick in her before.” He shook his head, “ Fucking slut. Take that off and hold yourself open for me.”

I stared at him, uncomprehending and he grabbed both my hands, placing them on my knees.

“Grab your knees and pull your legs back… So I can fuck that tight cunt the way I want to.” He said slowly, like I was a dog he was trying to train and I stared at him , defiantly.

“ Go to hell.” I whispered.

Yoongi’s laughter came from somewhere to the right.

“Your dirty talk needs work, Kook ah… Tell her she’s a precious little kitten and she makes you feel really good…. Bitches love that shit…”

Jungkook hovered over me, grabbing the back of my thighs and spreading them wide enough to make me whimper in pain.

“Is that so babygirl? You want me to tell you that? That you make daddy’s cock feel good?” He cooed, nudging the tip against me again and I had never hated anyone so much in my life. I stared up at his face, and he smiled at me, a cheeky little grin that made his bunny teeth stand out and for a second he looked so deceptively angelic and the glimmer of his piercing caught my eye.

I couldn’t help but swallow, gaze trained on the glint of metal on his tongue.

“You like that?” He grinned suddenly, sticking his tongue out for me to see, I felt my eyes widen at how sinfully good he looked .” Hyung she likes my tongue piercing.”

“Show her how it feels on her clit.” Yoongi laughed and I could barely fully process what I heard before Jungkook was crawling down my body, arms, curling on my thighs and yanking me onto his tongue .

I felt the press of his tongue on my slit, licking right into me and the jolt of pleasure was so unexpected, the pleasure so unwanted and yet so overwhelming and I couldn’t stop the way my body thrashed against the streets, lips parted as I practically mewled out in pleasure.

“Definitely a kitten…” Yoongi called out and I shuddered as Jungkook slipped two fingers into me , the ice cold press of his ring inside me making me jump. I wanted to pull away, grab his hair and yank him off but I couldn’t because it was

“Next time I’ll put the dick piercing in too, yeah? Fuck you with a bit of metal on my cock so you can feel that up there…. ” He laughed into my thighs and I screamed when he bit into the flesh there , hard.

“I’m getting bored… Either turn on facetime so I can at least jerk off to this , or I’m hanging up…” Yoongi called out .

“Hyung she clenches down on me every time she hears your voice… Just stay on for a few more minutes yeah, she tastes so fucking good, I’m gonna cum soon….” Jungkook added another finger, slipping in deep before spreading them apart inside me. I whimpered when he pushed his tongue in between the wet digits, licking into my walls and I could feel the ball of his piercing drag against my walls, ice cold and hard.

Was it fucked up that I did clench down on him again, my body apparently a slave to my base desires even as my mind screamed that he was the absolute worst bastard on the face of the planet.

“Elena, you owe me a blowjob at least for this…” Yoongi called out and I glared at the phone.

“I’ll bite your fucking dick off if you come anywhere near me.” I snapped.

“Fuck, I could get off just to that mouthy fuckhole of hers…..” Yoongi grunted.

Jungkook pulled away, climbing back up over me and lightly slapping my breasts.

“Now, how about you open that mouth and let me fuck it?”

Yoongi snorted from behind us and Jungkook glared at the phone before glaring at me again.

“Well?”

“You want to know how hard I can bite?” I said sharply, the pleasure ebbing away into nothing and resentment taking it place, the momentarily physicality of the situation fading and the reminder of who he was and who I was entering my sex addled brain.

“No.. You’re right…. But you know what, I’m not feeling it anymore. I was right.. you really aren’t qualified to be my whore. Your body…it’s frigid like a fucking popsicle…such a fucking turn off. ” He reached over and hung up on the phone.

“Now…”he whispered, leaning in closer and I yelped, when his fingers closed over my throat..” Shut your mouth and take what I give you like a grateful bitch.”

I swallowed when he pushed into me again, his pace steady as he fucked into me, eyes closed and I realized that he was almost fully dressed having just unbuttoned himself enough to get his cock out.

When he stiffened, spilling into me his eyes blew open and he locked eyes with me, wide eyed and for one horrible second he looked young and vulnerable and hurt.

I blinked as he pulled out, the sticky warm mess of his cum dripping down my inner thighs and onto the sheets.

“Well, that was much worse than I thought it would be.” He said and I stayed on the bed as he grabbed his phone and buttoned himself back up.

He smirked at me and then reached into his pocket.

I quickly pulled myself together, ignoring the aches and pains and getting to my knees before reaching for my dress on the bed. it was kind of pointless because I still had Hoseok’s shirt on and I wasn’t going to take that off in front of Jungkook.

“Well, I’m a man of my word , Elena so…here you go..just as we discussed.” He tossed a coin on the bed and I stared at the engraved 500 on the shiny surface, feeling my rage swell inside me.

“If you still want to work out a payment plan for your sister’s bills …. Why don’t you come to my office tomorrow?” He tossed his card on the bed before moving away to the door.

Fucking bastard.

Author’s note : My whole life is filled with regrets .

#jungkook smut #bts smut #ts fics #jungkook fics #bts fanfic #jungkook mafia au #bts mafia au

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saiyanprincessswanie · 2 years

Text

Chrome & Leather - Chp 10

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC, Brother Bucky x OFC, Eventual Billy Russo x OFC

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Grief, Mourning

Word Count: 3417

Chapter Summary: Life can change in the blink of an eye. What was once our hopes and dreams suddenly turn into a complete nightmare? Jessie struggles with her sister’s death as they bury Becca. The family tries to grieve their loss but that is short-lived as the Sheriff shows up with news that will turn everything upside-down.

Song inspiration: Valley of Death - Skillet

A/N: This chapter is going to cover the funeral of Becca. It is a heavy chapter emotionally so if you can’t read that then skip to the very end as that will lead into next chapter.

This is my first fic with an original female character, Jessie Barnes. Face claim for Jessie Barnes is model Jessy Hartel. Some have asked what Becca would look in my series so I added a photo in the series. The photo is of model Anna Von Klinski

To read more of my work here is my Masterlist

Thank you to my beta reader @music-culture-mythology Any other grammar or spelling mistakes are my own.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers , edits by @happygowriting & @iraot

To stay up to date with my writing follow my side-blog and turn on the notifications for @saiyanprincessswanie-sideblog

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps or third party sites. If you see my work anywhere else besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts then it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

Jessie felt numb as she sat curled up on the couch with a half-empty mug of hot chocolate in her hands. Her mom had finally gone to bed as tomorrow was the funeral for Becca. The family had decided against a viewing to the public considering Brock was still on the loose. The funeral was planned to be for close friends and family only as the Barnes family struggled with what happened at the diner.

Clint was sitting in a chair opposite Jessie in silence. Just having someone near without talking or fussing over her was somehow soothing. She felt her life moving in slow motion and every day since Becca was taken was a struggle to get out of bed. Her mind couldn’t get over how they just worked out their differences and then in the blink of an eye Becca was gunned down. Was it by her finger or Brock’s?

Steve, Bucky, and her mom had told Jessie numerous times this wasn’t her fault but she felt differently. If she wasn’t always trying to be the hero, the one who had to stand up to Brock, maybe Becca would still be here. That’s something that she would never get an answer to. What if? That would be something that Jessie will have to live with for the rest of her life.

Nausea rolled through Jessie for the fourth time that day. Quickly she put her mug down and ran for the bathroom where she emptied out the contents of her stomach into the toilet. For the past several days she had been sick to her stomach. Every time someone suggested Jessie see a doctor she blew them off. Stress was clearly eating at her piece by piece and she didn’t care if this is how her body wanted to respond to it. In her mind, she should have gotten the bullet, not her sister, so nausea was nothing.

Jessie flushed the toilet and gargled mouthwash before she headed back to the living room. Her eyes caught a picture of the two sisters laughing on the wall. It was a picture taken several years ago of them at a backyard bar-b-que. Jessie’s fingers lightly touched it as she thought of how she would never have moments like that again. Heading into the living room Clint gave her a comforting smile and she turned away from him. Quietly she spoke, “You can go home, Clint. It’s almost midnight and I’m about to head to bed.”

Clint shook his head. “It’s okay Jessie. I promised I would stay until they got back. Why don’t you go upstairs to rest? I’m sure the guys will be back soon.”

She wasn’t sure what errand Steve and Bucky had to run but it had been a few hours. Jessie walked over to her friend and hugged him. His arms wrapped around her comfortingly before she pulled back. “Don’t stay up too late, Hawkeye.” Clint chuckled at the nickname as she went upstairs to her bedroom.

Jessie quickly grabbed a shower to help with the tension her body was feeling. The hot water had helped soothe the aches that her body was feeling. If only it could help her mind to shut off from the thoughts of Becca taking her last breath. Turning the shower off Jessie grabbed a towel and stepped out of the shower. Once dried she put on some panties and one of Steve’s oversized shirts, inhaling his scent of sandalwood deeply as she crawled into bed and turned the light off.

Exhaustion had finally taken Jessie as she fell asleep quickly. It wasn’t until the bed dipped that she woke up startled. Her hand flew to the body next to her and met a solid chest. “Steve?”

“Shhh, it’s okay sweetheart I’m sorry I woke you,” Steve slurred as he climbed under the covers and gently pulled her body against his.

Jessie yawned against his chest as she cuddled close. The smell of whiskey was strong on his breath and it caused her stomach to sour. She should have known the guys were going out to drink. “What time is it?”

“It’s just after two in the morning.” His warm body was comforting to her even though she was annoyed about him going out. She would leave her thoughts about his actions until after the funeral. Jessie closed her eyes as her body relaxed against him and she chased sleep once again.

It was a cold and dreary day as the Barnes family and close friends sat in the church. As the pastor spoke about Becca's life and how God was calling her home to Heaven, Jessie mentally checked out. She needed her sister here with them more than God wanted her in Heaven, wanted it with everything in her soul. She felt detached from her body, almost as if she were at home watching a silent movie. The pastor's lips moved soundlessly as the people in the room around her cried and mourned for her sister. A picture of Becca sat on an easel next to the coffin. Her shining blue eyes seemed to stare into Jessie’s soul.

There was a flash of Jessie and Becca running down that aisle in their matching dresses when they were younger, always way too full of excitement to sit still even in church. The girls would always run ahead of their ma, dad, and Bucky who always seemed to straggle along, fidgeting in his suit. After church, the girls would barrel out the doors following Bucky and Steve. Their giggles and squeals were contagious as they chased one another.

She blinked and watched the two children fade from her vision as Steve nudged her to stand up. They had to head to the cemetery now where Becca was going to be laid to rest next to their father George. Jessie still felt numb to the world around her as a headache started to form. Steve put his arm around her as Jessie blinked again, bringing her attention back to her surroundings. The pastor spoke in front of the casket as they all sat in chairs next to it.

“What is grief, if not love persevering? To lose someone we have lost does not erase the love we have felt for them, it simply moves the object of our love out of reach. Grief is the space left behind, and it is the work of loving someone who is gone. Becca may be gone from her physical body but she is here with us in spirit.”

That made her heart clench in her chest as the tears finally fell from her eyes. Never would Jessie be able to call on her sister for advice. The two sisters had been close their entire lives with Jessie always being by Becca’s side. Now Becca would be nothing but a memory to Jessie, forced to face the future without her. When the pastor ended with a prayer Jessie watched her mom clutch onto Bucky’s arm as they walked to the coffin. Bucky and her ma made their way up to the coffin, Jessie was reminded of just several years ago, when it was her father's coffin. Their dad had died of a sudden heart attack. Bucky at that time was in the military with Steve, so it was Becca and Jessie to console their ma. The sisters were able to offer advice and comfort to each other, now she would have to lean on Steve and Bucky.

Winnie placed a hand on the wooden casket alongside Bucky, both leaving a rose on top. Roses had always been Becca’s favorite. When they were kids, their parents had planted rose bushes outside of their home and Becca would admire them for hours when they were in full bloom.

When their father was alive he would always snip one for Becca on special occasions. Becca was so close to her dad so it was only fitting to have the flower placed on her coffin where she lay beside him.

Steve tried to encourage Jessie to go up next but she refused to move from where they sat. Her blue eyes watched as a blurry Thor walked up to the coffin followed by a tall man with slicked-back black hair. Steve whispered that it was Thor’s brother Loki when he saw her confused look. Thor leaned over the coffin, placing his head on the coffin as he whispered his goodbyes. Jessie’s heart broke as she watched Thor place a ring on the coffin and leave with Loki. How close was he to proposing?

Clint, Tony, and John left roses as well on the coffin before turning to leave. Sam and Wanda walked hand-in-hand while Nat and Pietro followed them. There were a few women from the church that Winnie went to that approached and left their roses.

Now Steve and Jessie were alone. Jessie felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest with the anxiety running through her veins. This was it, the final goodbye. Taking a shaky breath Jessie stood with Steve and walked over to the coffin. Her hand trembled as she touched the smooth coffin. The tears fell down her face and onto the wood near her hand. “I love you, Becca. I promise I’ll do better.” Steve's hand gently rubbed her back as his other handed her a rose. Jessie took the pink rose in her hand and placed it on top with the rest. Steve and Jessie walked in silence back to her truck so they could go to the luncheon at her house. She felt like she was going to be sick.

Jessie’s home was filled with friends as everyone talked amongst themselves and ate finger foods provided by the Maximoff twins. The group all shared stories of Becca that made people laugh and shed a few tears. Becca was indeed an incredible woman, there was no denying that. She had touched so many lives. Currently, Natasha was sharing a story about how Jessie talked her and Becca into going joyriding in the country after their curfew. The ladies sat under the stars drinking wine coolers and talked about boys. Of course, once the night was over and the two sisters tried to sneak back in they were caught by their parents.

Everyone laughed except for Thor.

“It seems you always go looking for trouble Jessie.” Thor’s deep voice cut through everyone’s laughter and silence came over the room. All eyes seemed to look between the tall blonde man and her.

Jessie looked at Thor as he walked into the living room. “I…what?” she answered, clearly startled by his accusation.

“You know exactly what I mean.” Thor took a step toward where Steve and Jessie were standing, pointing an assertive finger at her, his voice rising an octave. “Everywhere you go trouble seems to follow. If you didn’t pick a fight with Brock, Becca would still be alive.”

“I think that’s enough.” Steve stepped in front of Jessie to shield her, his eyes narrowed as his hand touched Thor’s shoulder to calm him down but Thor pushed it away.

Thor’s fists clenched by his side as he raised his voice again. “I’m just saying what everyone in town already thinks. If Jessie didn’t go looking for trouble and put her nose where it doesn’t belong my Becca would be here today. W-We were supposed to get engaged and YOU ruined it! It’s your fault. It should have been you.” Thor shouted in animosity, his fist shaking at Jessie as Clint, Tony, and Loki grabbed Thor, dragging him out of the house.

Jessie ran from the room in guilt and headed to her backyard to get air. As she pushed through the door to the backyard she took deep breaths before a sob escaped her lips. The rain was still lightly falling but she didn’t care. A hand lightly touched her shoulder causing her body to tremble even though she knew it was Steve who followed her out. He pulled her against his chest and finally she let herself sob for the first time that day. He kissed her head as he rubbed her back.

“None of this is your fault. Thor was wrong,” Steve insisted but Jessie shook her head in denial. He should have known Thor was going to be a loose cannon. Hell if he would have lost Jessie he was sure he’d be in a bad place as well.

Jessie closed her eyes, letting the tears continue to fall as she mumbled, “He’s right, I should’ve never…”

Steve tilted her head back with his right hand making her look at him. “No, Thor is grieving. What he said was out of line. No one thinks what happened was your fault.”

Jessie pushed away from him. “Stop telling me that.”

“Jessie Lynn Barnes it’s not your fault,” Winnie spoke firmly, grabbing her daughter’s attention.

Bucky was behind his mom as they walked outside. “Mom’s right. No one blames you for what that monster did. Brock was an abusive asshole. You did what you thought was right to save you both.”

Jessie bit her lip as she looked between the three of them. Even though her mind wanted to blame herself, their words struck a chord with her. These were the most important people in her life and Becca’s. If they could stand there and tell her it wasn’t her fault then they must be telling the truth.

“Let’s all go back inside before you catch a cold.” Winnie ushered Bucky, Jessie, and Steve inside.

The rest of the afternoon went by without any outbursts. The guests finally left before dinner time, leaving Jessie, Steve, Bucky, Nat, and Winnie. With the funeral behind them, the family discussed heading back to their own houses so they could each grieve. The diner was going to be worked on and cleaned over the next week or two so they could finally open their doors once again. Jessie couldn’t even think about the diner yet. The thought of going back to the place where Becca died made her apprehensive. Steve and Bucky were going to take personal time off but would allow Tony to open the shop with the rest of the guys.

By 8 p.m. Steve and Jessie were finally alone. They had decided to cuddle in bed and watch Netflix. Even though Jessie wasn’t really watching, it was nice to have some background noise. After a while, her stomach started to act up again. Quickly Jessie jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom to throw up. As she finished emptying her stomach, she flushed the toilet and turned to the sink to rinse her mouth.

Her eyes locked onto Steve’s in the mirror as he stood shirtless in the doorway. Once she finished she walked towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He only wore sleep pants that hung low on his narrow hips. She hummed into his warm chest as she sought comfort.

Steve rested his chin on her head. “How long have you been throwing up for?” His hand gently stroked her back as she nuzzled closer into him.

“It’s been several days now. I think it’s the stress from everything.” Jessie softly answered. She knew Steve wasn’t going to let this go as he sighed.

Steve’s hand gently tipped her head back so he could look her in the eye. “If this continues tomorrow I want you to see a doctor. Stress or no stress you need to be able to keep food down.”

Jessie huffed at him as he spoke and crossed her arms.

“No huffing. I mean it, Jessie. Grieve as long as you have to but I won’t have you jeopardizing your health. That’s where I draw the line.” Steve emphasized by lightly squeezing her as his soft blue eyes gazed into hers.

“Fine. If I’m like this tomorrow I promise I’ll go. Can I crawl into bed now?” Jessie asked as she pouted.

Steve kissed her forehead and released her from his hug. They both crawled into bed together, Jessie moving over to Steve and placing her head on his warm chest while his arms wrapped around her. Her fingers gently drew circles around the tattoo of her name on his chest as he hummed in contentment. Jessie knew whatever tomorrow brought, at least she had Steve to help her through it.

Jessie woke to the sound of banging on her front door. As she groggily sat up, wiping the sleep from her eyes, Steve was already out of bed and throwing a shirt on. “Who is banging downstairs?”

“I’m not sure but I’m gonna go see. Just stay here in bed sweetheart.” Steve jogged out of the room.

Stretching Jessie decided she was awake now so she got out of bed wearing her usual panties and Steve's shirt only. She grabbed a pair of her sleep shorts out of her dresser and pulled them on. She padded out of the bedroom and headed down the stairs as Steve opened the door revealing Billy in his Sheriff's uniform and two deputies behind him.

Steve looked between the three men cautiously. “Billy, it's kind of early. What can we do for you?”

Billy stared at Steve as he spoke, “I’m here on official business, can I come in?” Steve stepped back from the door and let the men in. The four of them walked into the living room.

Jessie entered the living room, looking at Billy and the deputies. “Is there something wrong?”

“I’m afraid so. An anonymous phone call came in about a man dead in a ditch this morning. We positively identified him, it was Brock.” Billy watched as Jessie put a hand over her mouth and Steve wrapped an arm around her. “Brock was beaten pretty badly as his face was bruised and bloodied. The medical examiner said he may have died from blunt force trauma to the head but I’ll know more when the autopsy is done.”

Steve helped Jessie to sit down on their couch as she started to shake. “So why are you here this early telling us this?” Steve asked skeptically as he watched Billy’s neck tick as the man watched them.

“I’m here cause the caller said you and Bucky were behind the attack. I’m going to need you both to come down to the police station for questioning.”

Jessie looked between both men, shock clearly on her face. “You can’t be serious Billy! Steve would never do something like this.” Her hand tightened on his. There had to be some mistake.

“I wish I was. I’ll allow you both to get dressed out of courtesy. My deputies will watch you both to make sure you won’t try anything.” Billy motioned to the deputies that were with him.

Steve and Jessie got off the couch, heading upstairs under the watchful eye of the deputies. When they were both changed they came downstairs. Jessie grabbed her keys as everyone headed outside and she locked the door. Walking towards her truck Billy directed them to separate squad cars. Jessie watched as Steve got in the back of one before she got in the back of the other. This had to be some cruel mistake. Her hands fidgeted as they drove to the Sheriff’s office. When they arrived once again Steve and Jessie were led to separate interrogation rooms. Jessie sat in the chair for about ten minutes before Billy walked into the room.

Jessie sat up straighter. “Billy, what’s going on? Do we need to get a lawyer?”

Billy had a cup of coffee in one hand and placed it in front of her. She took it and thanked him. Billy sat across from her and offered a friendly smile. “I need to ask you a question. It’s very important Jessie. Where was Steve last night between the hours of 9 p.m. and 2 a.m.?”

Jessie stared back at him, her stomach souring as she knew this wasn’t going to be good.

Chapter 11

@americasass81

@awesomerextyphoon

@awsome262338

@caffiend-queen

@donutloverxo

@drabblewithfrannybarnes

@get0verit

@gotnofucks

@joannie95

@jobean12-blog

@miraclesoflove

@mogaruke

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@notyourtypicalrose

@ozarkthedog

@patzammit

@plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms

@princessofdarkwinter

@rayofdawnworld

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

@the-soulofdevil

@what-is-your-plan-today

@wonder-cole

@kaereadsworld

@animnerd

@stanmysoul

@sconnie-doesnt-know

@kitkatd7

#saiyanprincessswanie #chrome & leather #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers #bucky barnes

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this-world-of-beautiful-monsters · 2 years

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Donnie Angst Fics

TMNT IDW

[TMNT 2012]

[TMNT 2003]

[All media types]

[TMNT 2018]

[TMNT 1987, 1990s, 2007, 2014]

Purple by Intomyfireyoushallfall (scorpiontales) - Donnie’s brothers hold their own kind of vigil (tw injuries, implied violence, near-death experiences, medical issues) Do Androids Rest In Electric Graves? by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Donnie seeks what closure he can (tw mentioned violence, trauma, grief, guilt) This cute art with exquisitely fucked-up underpinnings by @felestina-stilton (tw mentions of genocide, mentions of dehuminzation, mentions of identity issues, and mentions of near-death/death experiences)

“Maintenance” from ABC TMNT by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Donnie has become a lot smaller and darker these days (tw implied character death, trauma, separation, abusive relationships, noncon, humiliation, torture, manipulation, imprisonment, slavery, obsession, possessive behavior, implied nonconsensual drug use, explicit sexual content, helplessness, hopelessness, suicidal thoughts, elements of self-harm)

“Stay” from ABC TMNT by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Donnie wrestles with the temptation of a peaceful life with the Ghostbusters (tw trauma, nightmares, guilt, grief, past injuries, past food insecurity, anti-mutant prejudice, poverty, family dysfunction, past violence, past character death)

“X-Ray” from ABC TMNT by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Donnie confronts his own damage from an outsider’s perspective (tw injuries, trauma, existential angst, past character death, mental health issues, emotional issues, pain, physical issues, shock)

“Alternate” from TMNT ABC III: Lives And Times Of The Turtles by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - The Shredder in Donnie’s universe may be dead, but there are brothers out here who need him (tw guilt, trauma, violence, apocalypse, past dystopia, past torture, past character death, separation)

“Gladiolus” from A Deep And Thorny Tangle by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Leo’s still caught in Saki’s web, and now Donnie needs them both to save the world (tw rape, underage, humiliation, violent thoughts, sexual abuse, emotional manipulation, nonconsensual voyeurism, psychological torture, intimidation, molestation)

“alive inside my brain” from - Donnie hasn’t had an untroubled sleep for a while (tw nightmares, mental health issues, insomnia, stress, trauma, brief references to past sexual assault and food insecurity, past violence, paranoia, grief, guilt, crying)

“can't part the sea, can't reach the shore” from - Donnie doesn’t know to fix this (tw chronic pain, past trauma, crying, physical and mental health issues)

“all those shadows almost killed your light” - from Donnie’s brothers wait for him to wake up (tw injuries, past violence, coma)

“don't know how it started, always bleeds through” from - Leo doesn’t remember who he’s supposed to be, and it’s tearing Donnie apart to watch (tw past sexual abuse, past rape, trauma, sickness, nausea, crying)

“hoping that they don't leave me for dead” from you say I'm callous and I'm numb by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Mikey and Donnie try not to drown in memories (tw guilt, loss)

#tmnt #tmnt idw #teenage mutant ninja turtles #donatello #donnie #angst #trigger warnings

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pitiless-achilles-wept · 3 years

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Not dead yet!: Marking my 2-year anniversaries

On Sunday I marked my two-year “cancerversary” of my diagnosis and on Tuesday a member of the support group I co-founded (for young women who are stage 4) died. Like me, she had triple-negative breast cancer. Like me, she was diagnosed stage 4 two years ago. Like me, she had exhausted several types of treatment (because triple-negative is a beast) and was looking for the one that would work. She asked me about Saci (Sassy!) and proposed trying it to her doctor less than a week before she died. Nine days before she passed she joined our Sunday cancer yoga group from bed at the hospital to join our meditation exercises. Like me, she remained confident and positive and absolutely refused to give up hope. (Like me, she also wore her hair purple sometimes.)

There were many things that are unlike about us too. She had two teenage children who now don’t have their mother. She was twelve years older than me and had had Hodgkin’s before she had breast cancer--even worse luck than mine, to triumph over one cancer only to get this diagnosis. Unlike me, she wasn’t strong enough for Saci, the only targeted triple-negative line of treatment, because her body had reacted badly to immunotherapy. She was in the hospital for two weeks with somewhat mysterious symptoms all of which added up to her body shutting down. On Saturday she went home with her family in hospice care. 2 days later she was gone.

It’s not usual for things to go so fast. Typically, doctors, patients, and family members all have some advance warning and patients spend a solid amount of time in hospice care. I am sure that people will ask me why it went that way for her. I’m asking myself why too, since it is so shocking and so entirely unfair. The fact that it can happen that way at all is frightening to me as a fellow patient since it’s the scenario of nightmares. That really could someday be me. No one ever wants to think that--and I cannot live my life focused on it either--but it has to be acknowledged as a possibility.

[More below the cut about memories from 2 years ago today and hopes for the future. Also, an invitation to contribute to some writing if you want.]

Today, January 28th, is the 2-year anniversary of my stage 4 diagnosis. In a way, it feels more significant than my initial cancer news. I had four days being horrified, but thinking that I would get through this as a phase in my life. It would be terrible--I’d have a double mastectomy, scorched-earth chemo, radiation, anything to get rid of the cancer--but then it would be done. On the Monday following my first set of CT scans I learned that that was not true. My lungs were full of tumors. (Later, after lots of waiting, MRIs and biopsies, I'd find that my lymph nodes, spine, and liver were affected too. I still have tumors in all those locations, but no new ones.) I wrote a description of getting that news in an email to a friend over the summer, after I had read Anne Boyer’s "The Undying”:

“The worst part about the lung tumors for me was that my dad had gotten a very early flight and I learned the news while he was in the air. My mom told me we could not text or tell him on the phone, that he would need to be with us both. So I drove to Newark straight from the doctor's office. It was in the teens outside and windy as we slogged to the baggage area where we were to meet. I saw my dad in his warmest and ugliest puffy orange down jacket, looking small in it, forlorn and horribly vulnerable. I fell into his arms, thinking at least that airports were such horrible places, so impersonal and banal, that no one would look twice. 'It's in my lungs,' I said into his shoulder so that I would not have to see his face. I was crying into the jacket that somehow smelled of winter cold even though he had been inside for hours. 'Please, Daddy. Fix it, please.' I spoke like a child because, on some very deep level, I think I really did still believe that my father could fix anything. I was embarrassed, though, and so I tried to stem my tears as he put his big hand on the back of my head and said, 'Oh sweetie, we'll get through this. We will.' I knew that really he could do nothing--and that this was his nightmare of powerlessness--and so I sniffed and blinked and I did not let myself cry again until June.”

Two years later this moment seems as if it just happened. The impact of my diagnosis on everyone dear to me, and especially my parents, is one of the worst things about it for me. We all know that there’s only so much “better” I can get, with the current science, and we’re all playing for time while the research moves forward towards something better, something that would make this a treatable chronic condition. I go back and forth, emotionally, on how likely I think that is and how good my position is for the future. Right now, comparing myself to the group member who died, I feel relatively fortunate, even as chemo exhausts me, I lose every scrap of hair that was ever on my body, and I spend half of my days being almost unable to eat from nausea and loss of taste. I feel glad that I was able to get Saci, that my body has so far stood up to the ceaseless trials I have put it through, with four treatments and surgery (and full-time work and living alone etc. etc.). I feel strong, not scared, even as I feel the emotional toll of terrible loneliness from covid isolation, winter, and carrying a sick body through my days alone.

I do not love the “fight” metaphor because so much of having an illness is completely out of your control and I never want to take myself (or anyone else) to task for “losing.” And so instead I will praise my body for enduring. I will praise myself for my enduring also, in both an emotional and physical way. I checked back in on how I was feeling as this anniversary approached last year and was pleased to see how much better I feel about it now, partly as a function of being in a treatment that is (likely) keeping me stable rather than in the midst of choosing another new one. Here is what I wrote back to my group of friends in November 2019, the run up to the one-year mark:

“I’m feeling like I can’t plan and don’t want to celebrate, like I can’t perform “fine” for the people in my life to spare them from the pain I’m causing by not doing better and feeling horrible about it. Perhaps it would help if I let them know that they didn’t need to perform “fine” for me? I understand the desire to protect me from the obligation to take care of them and appreciate it. But sometimes it can feel like I’m the only one experiencing anger or grief or pain, though I know I’m not. Feeling so isolated in my emotional response provides no catharsis for it. Compassion and sympathy function on the notion of “fellow feeling.” If you’re just out here, feeling by yourself, you can’t expect any comfort. As always, I think of the moment in the Iliad when Priam and Achilles cry together over dead Hector. Grief (and you can grieve for many things aside from a death) is something explicitly to be shared.” So I guess I’ve shared it here. I can do that. And I can do another thing, which is to tell you I love you. People don’t really say it enough and reserve it too entirely for romantic contexts. It’s weird--it’s not like we are wartime rationing love! And every time anyone says it to me it helps. It’s an affirmation that I am integral in some way to people’s lives which, in a society that so greatly valorizes marriage/partnership and children, is something I can be in doubt about.”

There are some things I like here, though, and that I would now like to reiterate and invite you, my far-flung friends, to do for my 2-year milestone. Never has the notion of “fellow feeling” in times of grief and depression hit harder or been more important than during covid. In a way, the nation (or even world) was forced into much the same position, emotionally and practically, that my cancer put me in. People are isolated, unable to perform “fine” and wondering if other people feel the same way, or even if any of us can take care of each other at all. I am here to tell you that you can. Maybe not immediately but--sooner than you think--you can. Emotional reserves may be low but reaching out to support someone else can actually replenish them. You do not have to feel alone, or to feel, alone.

And for me, for this milestone and for the cancer-related depression that I certainly do have, I’d like to invite you to help me, so that I can do the same for you. I invite you to write something about how this milestone feels for you (either about me or not), how it relates to all the other insane things going on in the world or with you (not about me at all), how you felt on the original day when I shared my stage 4 diagnosis (definitely about me)--really anything that is on your mind or in your heart.

“Oh great,” you may think, “the English PhD has asked us to do homework!”. But no! It's up to you what you do. Write in whatever form you want, however long, even anonymously. And if you do I will write you back! Not with grades or comments, but with something to connect to what you shared. It is a way to create fellow-feeling; to open up, connect, heal. With me, yes, but also as the group of extraordinary people who have gone with me so far on this hard road. It’s a very different proposition to support someone through time-limited treatment with a good outcome than it is to sign on for whatever comes next. You are all, truly, pretty extraordinary.

Anyone who wants to send a note or reflection can email me or drop a file or post in this Google drive folder. Like I said, feel free to share whatever and do it anonymously if you’d rather. You can also askbox me here (better than DMS) or submit a post to this blog. (I'm taking a chance with open DMs for now...we'll see if that needs to change.)

I am grateful for all of you every day, but especially today.

Love, Bex

p.s. The title of this post refers to the cinematic classic "Monty Python and the Holy Grail," a film my high school self and friends loved. They, along with other wonderful folks. gave me a "cancerversary" cake with "Not dead yet, motherfucker!" on it this Sunday. p.p.s. The average life expectancy for people who get this diagnosis is 18 months to 3 years. Hitting 5 years would be extraordinary. Starting Year 3 is a huge deal and I have every intention of being extraordinary. (Never been average at anything in my life...I either succeed spectacularly or fail epically!)

#my life as a cancer patient #cancerversary #stage 4 #mbc #metastatic breast cancer #personal #memories #bex writes #writing invitation #quarantine life

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marmolady · 3 years

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Old Ghosts

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC

Summary: In which twelve-year-old Liv is a doofus and makes a series of poor decisions.

Word Count: 6548

Chronology: set after 'How the time escapes me....'

More Montoya family backstory and other content: Of Secrets and Stars, Scar, Home, Sweet Home, A Ride to Remember, Inheritance, When the Fight is Over, Mutual Comfort

Warnings: grief and loss, coarse language

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr,

@greengroove... as you've been enjoying your angst recently, this might be your cuppa tea. ;)

____________________

--BANG!--

Liv jumped near a mile in the air at the sudden sound. In that single moment it took for her blood to run cold, it became clear what exactly this recording showed… and why it had been hidden away in a box she’d been forbidden from touching.

Fumbling, she managed to press pause, then held her breath. Had she been heard? That gunshot hadn’t been as loud as it had seemed to her, had it? The sounds of her mothers talking, laughing, floated up from the backyard. They hadn’t heard. Liv turned down the volume a couple of notches before pressing play again.

Why are you still looking at this?

But it was her abuelita, the person for whom Liv was named. In watching, Liv felt she was paying her respects.

You’re going to regret this.

She already did. But that didn’t stop her from watching on, even while her heart seemed to pound in her throat.

Who was this woman? It had seemed like she was Abuelita’s friend. What kind of friend would…? It didn’t make sense, anyway, she’d always been told that the Bad Man, Rourke, had killed Abuelita….

‘Lila… how could you…?’

She watched with wide, frightened eyes as the woman, the devil woman, put the gun to the forehead of Liv’s grandmother. She braced herself, knowing what must surely be about to happen. She wished that her abuelita didn’t look so much like her Mama Estela.

‘I told you to stop. I begged you. Why did you have to betray him?’

Another gunshot, and it was all over. Shaking violently, Liv yanked out the flash drive and again, listened for any sound that suggested anyone had a clue what she’d been doing. There was no sound, just her own frantic, rattling breathing. The vision of the dead body, fuzzy in the black-and-white security footage but unmistakably still, and bloodied, and broken… it was seared onto Liv’s brain, burning her, and she was helpless to escape.

She shouldn’t have looked at it. Whether it was the guilt or the shock of what she’d just seen, she felt a pit in her stomach, and swooping nausea. Granted, she’d been feeling stomach-achey a lot of the night before, but this was different.

Liv placed the small drive back in the secret box, and put that back where she’d found it, among the old school photos, gymnastics trophies and other bits and pieces that had never been unpacked. Then she high-tailed it out of there, praying that she wouldn’t be physically sick.

Following the trauma she’d just unleashed upon herself, Liv needed space to think and feel. Her mothers, thankfully, were quite content for her to take a bicycle and go off on her own as far as the big park in the centre of Valle Brava. She just had to call out ‘I’m going for a ride!’, and they’d let her go-- in this case, without her getting close enough for it to be obvious that she was really not okay.

As far as Liv was concerned, there was no question telling her mothers what she’d just watched. There was not a doubt in her mind of just how badly it would hit her Mama Estela… now of all times. Estela had not been okay. Liv had known it even before Taylor had sat her down and explained. They were in the lead up to Estela’s fortieth birthday; she’d be the same age her mother had reached before her life was ended. Now and then, Estela would get so distant, lost in a sad place where even those she loved most had to work hard to reach her. Immediately after, she’d swing hard and fast in the other direction; becoming desperate for closeness with Liv and Taylor… as though the distance grief had made her impose had brought about a fear of further loss. It had all become worse in those past few weeks; Miel, the old horse Estela used to ride with her mother, had succumbed to old age, fueling the feelings of bereavement.

Liv could not, would not go around stabbing knives into already tender wounds. She loved her mama too much for that.

One time, when Liv had been… seven, maybe eight, she’d gotten what she thought was a bright idea. It had seemed so simple to her-- if Reggie’s dead grandmother could be brought back via a hologram, why couldn’t hers? Liv had prepared herself to be lauded as a hero for her stroke of genius, but that wasn’t how it went down. Estela shot the idea down so fast Liv’s head almost spun. Bewildered, the well-meaning little girl had doubled-down, stubbornly insisting that she had the fix for everything that had brought her mother sadness. At the time, Liv hadn’t understood why Estela had gotten so angry at her, and why, instead of being happy about the magic solution, she’d become sadder than Liv remembered ever seeing her. Now almost thirteen and much wiser, Liv had developed a honed sensitivity to triggers of her mama’s grief. This, she knew, would do it.

Arriving at the park, Liv lay down her bicycle, then herself. She gazed up into a blue sky, and the clouds painted across it became blurred from her tears. The guilty pain in her gut lingered, and it brought her mind’s eye again and again back to the darkening bloodstain that had spread across her grandmother’s abdomen. As if her own body was intent on tormenting her-- punishment for what had been a blatant betrayal of trust.

As she cried, her belly pain seemed to get all the stronger, the force of her sobbing perhaps straining whatever had already become tender. Liv felt queasy. She supposed that make sense. A mix of shame and horror could do that to a kid. She closed her eyes.

Okay…. You can’t go home until you get a hold of yourself, and you can’t stay out here forever.

Liv focused her breathing. Sensible deep breathing techniques had been a staple in her mothers’ bag of de-anxiety tricks for as long as she could remember. Jitters before first day of school? Deep breathing. Robin-dog disappeared after digging under the fence? Deep breathing. There’s a goddamn yeti outside her window? Deep breathing.

Her bellyache wasn’t going anywhere, and she still felt like crap, but Liv’s head was clearer. She was less shaky. She wasn’t hyperventilating. And she could string two thoughts together without seeing nasty flashes of a cruel murder. She didn’t dare close her eyes, so she sat up and forced herself to focus on a family of birds in a tree across the stream. Whenever visions of death and betrayal reared their ugly heads, she’d just have to make herself pay attention to what those birds were doing. Eventually… eventually she’d feel better. Right?

Liv left the park just as the sun began to descend in the sky, knowing she’d be walking her bike home at a glacial pace. The pain in her belly had become sharp. She had no appetite-- not remotely-- but was already steeling herself for putting on a smile and forcing herself to scarf down whatever dinner she had to look forward to as if nothing was wrong. As she rounded the corner home, she took a deep breath, and got onto her bike, being sure to arrive home with nothing suspicious about her entrance.

“Hola Livita!”

“Hi Mama.” Liv plastered on a smile as she wiped her feet at he back door. “Dinner smells good-- are we having a roast?”

“You’ve got a good nose on you,” Taylor said, nodding. “Should be about a quarter of an hour?”

“Do you guys need help with anything?” Please say no… please say no….

“You’re all right,” said Estela. “Go cool off; you look like you’ve been riding hard.”

With her mothers both in the kitchen, Liv slipped in the bathroom and discreetly took a couple of Nurofen tablets. They were rarely used, and it seemed unlikely anyone had count of how many were in the box.

That evening felt to stretch on forever. The pain in her stomach had become sharper, more insistent, and it was all Liv could do not to visibly wince when she moved. This was one nasty-ass stomach-ache. If she could just get that horrible image out of her mind… the sound of those gunshots…. But there was no way. Something like that wouldn’t just disappear, and she had only herself to blame.

Over dinner, Estela had watched her eat, eyes narrowed.

“Are you all right, Livi? It’s not like you to be the last one with a clean plate.”

Liv’s cheeks reddened. Crap. Think fast! “Um… I might have stopped off at the bakery on the way back from the park….”

“Livita!” Estela shook her head. “No wonder you’ve got no appetite. What was it that was so good it couldn’t wait until after dinner?”

“I, uh, had a few buñuelos….”

“A few?”

“Three….” Liv hunched her shoulders guiltily for good measure. There was really no acting involved; she felt genuinely terrible-- just for a different reason.

“Three?” Taylor exclaimed. “And you didn’t think; ‘hang on, this could be one for me, one for Mama Estela, one for Mama Taylor’….?”

“I was really hungry after all the riding. I really, really enjoyed dinner though! I promise next time I’ll save buñuelos for after.”

Estela sighed, but her eyes were soft with affection. “What are we to do with you, nena?”

Liv had been sentenced to cleaning up all the dinner dishes for her fabricated crimes against donut-sharing. Keeping to herself for the rest of the night, she was able to avoid scrutiny. A couple more pain-relief tablets before bed and… well, all she had to do then was to try and sleep through the stabbing feeling and the nausea, and the flashes of her grandmother’s murder. It was to be a long night.

____________________

Come morning, and Liv was a wreck; in just as much pain, but now sleep-deprived to boot. First order of the day was to down a couple more Nurofen, followed by a shower, in the hope she’d make it to school without raising suspicion.

True to form, though--

“Livi, did you sleep all right?”

Liv tried not to wince as Estela put a hand to her forehead.

“You’re very warm--”

Liv flinched away, scowling. “Well, I didn’t have a cold shower, did I?” she snapped. Feeling her mother studying her, assessing, she looked pointedly away. “Can I eat my toast now? Or do you wanna whisk me off to the doctor because I’m hot after a shower and am tired on a Monday morning?”

Estela gave a soft huff. “Less of the attitude, okay?” Hands on her hips, she looked over her daughter for a few moments more. “Grab a piece of fruit as well.”

Pretty certain her mom was not entirely convinced, Liv nonetheless felt relief-- not least because the ibuprofen was kicking in.

She managed to make it to school without being pulled up on anything odd about her demeanour, and relaxed somewhat, knowing that no teacher was going to be half as switched-on to her being okay as her mothers. School, Liv was sure, would help. If she had something to occupy her mind-- assignments, trying to hold onto mathematical formulas, her friends’ own troubles-- she should be able to get some respite from the flashes of a murder scene, and the guilty stomach pain and nausea they triggered.

For the most part, it did help. And no doubt being dosed up contributed as well. Liv managed to get through the first block of lesson-- with a hunched posture and a wandering mind, true, but she’d powered through nonetheless. But when she met up with her friend Izzy during break, it became obvious that her ‘powering through’ looked to the world rather more like ‘something that had crawled out of a zombie movie’.

“Shit! Are you about to faint? Maybe you should sit down?”

Faint, probably not, but at this point Liv wasn’t going to bet against a good hurl. She sat down for good measure.

Reggie sat down beside her, a definite air of sympathy about him, but he was still Reggie; straight to the point. “Livia’s feeling bad about watching security footage of her grandma getting murdered.”

“WHAT?” Izzy yelped. “What the fuck?”

Liv glowered. “I know, right? What the fuck, Reggie?”

“No one’s around! It’s not as if anyone ever listens to us anyway.”

Izzy turned her wide hazel eyes to Liv. “Wait? You are serious? You saw… that?”

With a glance around, establishing that no one was within earshot, Liv gave a shaky nod. “It wasn’t really graphic or anything… but it was someone dying. Someone who’s family.”

“Ohmygod. Are you okay? Guess it makes sense that you look like shit!”

A nervous giggle sent a sharp pain to Liv’s middle, and it was all it took to set the tears flowing. In an instant, her two friends huddled closer, Izzy rubbing her back, and Reggie putting a long arm around her shoulder.

It hurt. It hurt so bad. And it hurt all the more because the comfort she most desperately wanted… she wouldn’t let herself have.

“I-I’ve known the gist of what happened since I was little,” she said softly, “it wasn’t a secret or anything. But it makes it different to actually see something, you know? That was my mom’s mom. I got out the house and I just… I cried like a baby. I feel so mad that it even happened, and it feels like… like I lost something, and I didn’t even really know until just now. And I’m so friggin’ scared my moms are gonna find out I saw it, and I feel just sick thinking about it. I dunno what to do, I….”

Again, the blasted tears came, and they left her doubled-over.

“Maybe…,” Izzy ventured, “maybe you could go to the sick room? You look really bad. Like, you’re shaking…. And no one’s gotta know anything about the, uh, the other stuff.”

Liv, curled in on herself, shook her head. “You don’t know my moms. They’ll wanna know what’s wrong. They’ll find out.”

“Yeah…,” Reggie agreed reluctantly. “Tia Estela doesn’t miss much. I’d say your best bet is to cry it all out, and once you’re feeling better emotionally, the sickness’ll clear too.”

I goddamn hope so.

By the time lunchtime rolled around, Liv was exhausted. Too drained to deal with her friends’ insistence that she got herself some help-- for by this point Reggie was convinced she’d be better off just telling Estela--she took herself off on her own, hiding out behind the bushes at the edge of the sports field.

She tucked her knees up against her chest and squeezed them with her arms. The pain was unlike anything she’d felt before-- and just from guilt?

It’s almost like it’s a fucking curse. Great. I’m being cursed by the ghost of my abuelita.

As bad as it was, Liv knew she’d just have to ride it out. No one ever, like, died from guilt-gut did they? And if it was her abuela was trying to teach her a lesson, there was no way she’d let it get that far either. Just thinking about the look on her Mama Estela’s face if she were to find out what Liv had been looking at just made her feel like vomiting all the more, and---

Liv dived to the side, hurling into the long grass. Her whole body was trembling as she propped herself up on her hands and knees. The sudden movement had left her feeling like her body was ripping itself in two. Hot tears splashed down from her cheeks.

What the hell am I gonna do?

What she did do, was to take another couple Nurofen, and stubbornly get herself through the day. In the couple of hours between lunch and catching the bus home to Valle Brava, the sharp pain in her abdomen seemed to dissipate… and she could, at last, breathe deeply… she could move without feeling like her body, or even a ghost, was punishing her. Maybe her abuela knew she was sorry. Maybe she’d just needed that vomit. Liv even managed to-- at long last-- pick at some of her packed lunch; though she did guiltily throw out or give away most of it. She might have been getting her appetite back, but she had to wolf down dinner convincingly, or toughing out the school day would have been for nothing.

At home, though, she was in luck. Both her mothers were dealing with unusually packed schedules, and though they checked in with her, Liv found that she was feeling just better enough that no one worried about her between rushing through dinner and making important calls. The night drew to a close, and despite her tiredness, Liv felt brighter. Having again dosed herself up, she curled up between her mothers on the couch and watched Planet Earth III, piping up her own commentary-- though she was told that if she truly dreamed of being the next David Attenborough, she’d have to learn to narrate without dropping in Spanish swear words. Her stomach still ached, and if her mind was allowed to quiet for too long, dark images would reappear… but the storm had been weathered.

Lying in bed, Liv was much more comfortable than the night before.

I’m sorry Abuelita. I know I screwed up. Would it help if I promise to tell Mama Estela? Just not now. Sometime in the future when she’s feeling better. If you’re watching close enough to put a curse on me, you’ll know she’s not okay.

Of course, there was no response from anyone or anything to the voice of Liv’s mind.

Don’t hate me. I just wanted… I just wanted to know you more. Even if it was knowing the worst part. Please don’t hate me.

Please don’t hate me.

The wee hours of the morning saw Liv awoken by throes of agony. She couldn’t stop shivering, but every tiny movement made her want to scream. She was going to be sick. Unable to make it to the bathroom, she vomited over the floor, and let out a cry of despair. And then she simply couldn’t stop.

The sound of a switch… light across the hall… and footsteps….

“Livi! Baby, what’s happening?”

And she could only sob.

I’m so sorry.

Please don’t hate me.

__________________________

Hushed voices washed over Liv from where she lay. What had happened? She could remember flashes of… flashes of voices strained by fear. And the pain. Where was she now?

“--can’t stop going over it in my head. How was she this sick and we didn’t even know? What did we miss?”

“Tell me about it,” came Taylor’s sighing reply. “There had to be something we should have caught. And I know there’s no point beating myself up now but… god.”

She was… she was really sick? Then… then it couldn’t have been any kind of curse. Even to teach her a lesson, her abuela would not have put her in danger. And the kind of sickness you get from guilt wouldn’t have made her mothers this scared for her, would it? There quiet for a little while, before Estela spoke again.

“Then she was hiding it from us. Why would she do that? There’s gotta be something else going on here….”

“I… think you’re right. I don’t know if that makes me feel even worse.”

“But we’re here for her now, cariña. I guess… for whatever it is she needs us for.”

Liv forced herself to stir. She needed her moms. Now. Every inch of her body was heavy, and all her efforts could only go so far as to move her hand just a little.

“Livi, honey?”

Slowly, she opened her eyes. “Mm… Mama…?”

“Hey, baby. It’s okay; we’re here. We’re here….”

“...Mmmm….”

Liv fell back to sleep, and when her eyes opened again, it was rather less of a chore. Her mothers were still there on either side of her.

“Back in the land of the living, nena?”

“...Mmph…. Am I in… in hosp’al? Thissnot our house?”

“You’re in hospital, sweetpea. And you’re gonna be just fine. No need to worry.”

Slowly, Liv returned to her senses. Though it had to be repeated to her a few times, she learned that she’d been taken to hospital with a nasty case of peritonitis. This was explained to her to mean that her appendix had become infected to the point where it had ruptured from the pressure, and the infection had spread all through her abdominal cavity. She was told that her pesky appendix had been taken out, and the surrounding insides thoroughly cleaned up. And she was told that she’d be in hospital to receive antibiotics for maybe as long as two weeks.

“Two weeks?”

Estela squeezed Liv’s hand, her dark eyes soft. “It’s important that you stay in hospital so they can put the medicine straight into your veins, and so the doctors can keep a close eye on any signs that you might need any more help. Th-they….” Her voice cracked. “They are going to need to help you to eat. That’s what the tube in your nose is for. It will take food straight to your stomach while eating is too hard for you.”

Soooo, definitely not just a guilt-induced angry belly, then? Well, crap.

“Sweetpea…,” Taylor ventured, “what happened? Why… why didn’t you say anything?”

Liv felt her cheeks flush. She could feel those worried gazes upon her… worried and hurt, though they might try and hide it.

Tears filled Taylor’s eyes. “This was very serious, Liv. You could have died. Baby, you can’t just hide it when you’re not feeling all right! You know that.” She gave a little sigh, and stroked her daughter’s short hair. “I’m not trying to scare you, hon. But what happened was very, very dangerous.”

Liv’s chin wobbled. You’ve fucked up. God, Liv, you’ve really fucked up….

No one probed further; they just held her, and stroked her hands, and kissed her hair, and told her she was safe. Maybe… maybe not knowing what had happened would hurt them even more than the honest truth.

“You’re gonna be really mad at me…” Liv said meekly.

“Maybe,” said Taylor. “But I’ll let you in on a secret; your Mama Estela and I are just so damn relieved you’re alive right now, I think we could forgive you anything.”

Liv looked up from her hands, meeting Estela’s worried gaze. Her mouth was dry. She didn’t want to say it… to see the sadness she knew would follow.

“I…,” she started tentatively. “I was going through those old boxes in your room that hadn’t been unpacked yet. I was looking for my beam medal I got back in Northbridge… you know, to put up with my new one. And I… and I found that old box you used to keep on the top shelf in your dresser.”

Beside her daughter, Estela sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. At Liv’s other side, Taylor’s face clouded over.

“Oh, Livi….” she murmured.

“I did something really, really stupid. I knew you must have had good reasons for not wanting me to go in there, but I did. And I found the drive, and I watched what was on it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Estela had gone very still, save for the tremble of her lip. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she scrunched her eyes in protest.

For Liv, the world seemed to slow. A swooping need to vomit was upon her once more. Please… say something.

Taylor had reached for her wife, grasping a trembling arm, all the while holding Liv close. She couldn’t know how much Liv needed to be held like that in this moment.

“I wish you hadn’t had to see that…,” Estela whispered finally.

“I know-- but it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have been so nosy. An-and I thought that was why I felt sick, and I had a bellyache. Because I felt so guilty, and so sad, and….” Liv spluttered, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

Estela’s strong arms surrounded her. “Oh, mi amor. Mi pobre nena. Shh, shh, shhh…. We’ve got you now.”

For the first time in she-didn’t-know-how-long, Liv exhaled a deep breath. The nurse came by and fussed around her for a while, then the doctor as well. They were gentle on her, which she appreciated. She’d had a shit couple of days. She patiently let them do their thing, waiting for them to leave so she could talk freely to her mamas.

At last, they were alone again.

“Abuelita was really brave,” Liv murmured.

“We are a brave people, Livi. My mami showed me the way, and Mama Taylor and I try and pass it on to you. But, yeah… your abuelita was very brave.”

Liv wasn’t sure whether her trying to endure appendicitis counted as being brave or stupid, and she didn’t ask. She hoped that somehow, she was doing her grandmother proud.

Her dark eyes brimming with tenderness, Estela stroked her daughter’s cheek with her thumb.

“We’ll talk, okay? We can’t really… here. But we’ll talk about what you saw, and any questions… I’ll answer any questions you have that I can. Is that… is that all right?”

“Yeah…,” Liv replied, her voice small. “If you’re okay…?”

Estela put her arms around Liv, and held her as though she was the most precious thing in all the world.

“Livita. You’re safe. So, I’ll be okay.”

_____________________

The hospital stay was long and tedious. Liv frequently felt like crap, though she appreciated the pain relief given when it got too much. There was little to do. What she really needed to talk about, she couldn’t; she’d just cry and hold her mamas and know they understood what was hurting so much. Sometimes, she and Estela cried together. That made Liv feel bad. It always did. She wanted her mom to be less sad, not more. But Estela assured her that the crying helped her feel better, and Liv realised it was something she’d have to make peace with. Her mom had been through too much to not be overwhelmed by feelings sometimes. It didn’t mean that she, Liv, had done anything wrong, that she was somehow making it worse. Taylor, of course, gave away hugs to the two of them as if they were going out of style. And they had visitors. Tio Nicolas came by almost every day. Every day he would ruffle Liv’s hair and tell her she was a stubborn tonta. But, he’d have to concede, stubbornness did run in the family. Estela would grumble, saying she didn’t have a clue what he meant by that. Aleister, Grace and the kids came round a lot too. Reggie had looked about as horrible as Liv had felt-- turned out he’d been blaming himself for not snitching on his cousin and getting her to the sick room whether she liked it or not. The two kids exchanged apologies for the poorly handled situation, and he sat on the bed with her to watch the T.V.

Home felt wonderful. Liv was expected to take it easy, with no strenuous activity for several more weeks. She’d had a brief panic thinking she might not be able to go along to the reunion trip, less than a week away, but the doctor had given the go-ahead. It would just be… a more sedate La Huerta visit than what she’d usually go for.

Being home, though, meant it was time for a tough talk. Her first afternoon back, and Taylor and Estela invited Liv to sit on their bed with them, for what she knew was to be a serious discussion. Somehow, though she’d been longing to let out everything she’d been feeling, answer all the questions that had been flying through her mind… Liv felt so nervous. She sat down cross-legged between her moms, and noticed that Estela looked small, hunched in on herself… as trepidatious as Liv felt. It was okay. They were in this together.

It was Taylor who spoke first. “Hon, you shouldn’t have been looking at that stuff. At all. I know we’re not exactly strict on you, but when we say something’s off limits, we mean it, and we mean it for a reason.”

Well, yeah. Learned that one the hard way. Liv winced, feeling the hurt in her mom’s voice. They’d trusted her, and she’d deliberately broken that trust.

“I’m sorry,” she said, as humbly as she could muster. She was sorry. More than she could say.

“We know,” Taylor said. “And maybe… maybe it would have been better if we’d told you what was in there. We thought your trusting our judgement would be enough.”

Estela gave a sad little sigh. “Well, it is what it is. You can’t exactly unsee that, anymore than I can. So, if you wanna talk about what happened to your abuela… if you’ve got questions….” She took Liv’s hand and squeezed gently. The reassurance was deeply welcomed. “We’ll answer the best we can. It’s a… it’s a lot to process.”

For a long stretch, Liv went over in her head what it was she wanted to ask first, how to ask. She didn’t feel rushed; her moms let her take her time.

“I thought,” she said at last, “that it was Rourke… the bad man, who killed Abuelita. Who was that woman?”

Estela nodded stiffly. “Yes, it was Rourke. That woman-- her name was Lila Sethi--” she spat it like it was poison, “she was his weapon of choice. Though… she was good at hiding it sometimes. Or people were too stupid to trust their gut feelings about her. My mom trusted her, and I….” Her voice cracked.

“Did you meet her? When you went to La Huerta to stop Rourke?”

“I… didn’t just go to La Huerta to stop Rourke. I went there to kill him. For what he’d done. I’m sorry, Livi… I know that’s hard to hear.”

The world blurred out of focus. Liv could see mouths moving, her mothers reaching to offer her comfort, but the sound just washed over her, void of meaning.

“Livita.” Estela took Liv’s face in her hands, and cradled her. “I didn’t do it. I had opportunities, and I tried if our lives were in immediate danger, but I didn’t kill Rourke. Or Lila. I could have done, but… she was already dying, and… my mom had died trying to get me a more peaceful life. She wouldn’t have wanted….” Her voice broke, and she let out a dry sob.

Liv snuggled in against her mother’s chest, and wrapped her arms around her body as hard as she possibly could. She thought of what she’d seen on that recording. The horror that had filled her, making her cold from head to toe. How much her abuela had looked like Estela... how it must have felt to have someone she loved that much viciously torn from life…. Her poor mama.

“I love you, Mama ‘Stel.” The words muffled against a chest heaving with emotion, they were heard and felt, touching where they were needed and acting as a soothing balm.

Estela squeezed her eyes tight, and kissed the top of her baby’s head. “I love you, nena.”

Liv rearranged herself so that she was tucked into a comfortable cuddle with Estela, her free hand being taken by Taylor, who stroked it tenderly with her thumb.

“We knew Lila,” Taylor said quietly. “Or, more like, we thought we did. She was the tour guide who was looking after our group when we arrived on La Huerta. I think just about all of us were suspicious of her-- I mean, she worked for Rourke-- but most of the time… it seemed like she was one of us. Just… just trying to work out what was going on. Just trying to survive.”

“Would you believe, when Taylor and I found that footage, when we watched it… Lila actually walked into our room at the end? She’d made us breakfast.” Estela laughed bitterly, a cold, unpleasant sound. “How fucked-up is that?”

“...And… she was your mom’s friend? She trusted her. And….” Liv shuddered.

“I know, sweetheart,” Taylor soothed. “Your abuela deserved so much better than her last moments to have been a betrayal. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.” She scooched even closer, so she could kiss Liv’s forehead and Estela’s cheek. “Lila was not okay. Not remotely. She’d had a hard life, and Rourke took advantage of that to make her loyal beyond reason. He didn’t care for her. And the people who did… well, Lila was too blinded by Rourke’s promises to see it. Not until the very end… and so much had already been taken.”

Liv cried for the unfairness of it all, held by Estela who cried too.

“Why… why’d you keep it? Don’t you just wanna throw it in a fire and let it burn?”

Estela groaned sadly. “It seems very morbid. Sometimes it drives me crazy knowing it’s there-- I hate it. But there’s no other evidence left of what my mom did; how she gave her life to stand up to a powerful, evil man. I don’t want it to ever be forgotten what a hero she was.”

“I guess… that kinda makes sense.”

“Grief is weird. What makes sense when you’re feeling it, it isn’t always logical. To me, keeping that footage meant that in the end, no one can take away the fact that my mom was a hero. I’m never gonna watch it. Ever, ever again. But I can’t ever bring myself to throw away how brave she was.”

Liv thought she understood. Certainly, she was proud to be her abuela’s granddaughter… to carry her name. The brave thing she’d done shouldn’t be allowed to be erased.

“Mom?”

“Yes, mija?”

“Is it stupid that I feel so sad? It’s not like I knew Abuelita. But I think… I think that’s why I feel so bad. It’s like… I’m missing something. Something really important.”

Estela hugged Liv tighter. “You are. Sometimes that’s the hardest part.” She briefly pulled away one of her arms so she could wipe her eyes, before wrapping it once again around her daughter. “Some days, it feels like that’s killing me. All the happiest times-- like when you were born. Your abuela should have been there, celebrating with all of us.”

“Do you think…” Liv asked tentatively, “… she’d like me? I kept thinking, she’d be so mad that I watched that-- she’d be so mad that I’d do something to hurt you. I’m scared she must hate me….”

“Oh, nena.” Estela began to weep once more. “Your abuelita would have loved the bones of you. And if any part of her is hanging around at all, she’ll be hanging around wishing she could cuddle your little brains out.”

“Do you think she is? Hanging around?”

Estela sucked a breath. “I don’t know. I talk to her sometimes, as if she is here. I’ve even written letters to her-- I told her all about you when you were born. It makes me feel closer to her, but… I don’t like to think much about if she’s actually there, hearing me. One way or another, I just like to think she has peace. Mama Taylor is convinced Abuelita is still with us, just beyond reach.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” said Taylor. “I saw her, when I nearly died bringing the world back. Either a near-death hallucination or… maybe it was something real. I like to think she’s sticking close.”

“Probably waiting for Tio to kick the bucket so she can smack him ‘round the head for letting her teenage daughter fight in a civil war.” Estela chuckled darkly, and sighed.

“Estela!”

Liv laughed too, feeling a shift in the atmosphere. It sure wasn’t easy to talk about these things… to let yourself feel the enormity of what had been lost, but it didn’t seem there was much other way to learn to live with it. Once the pain was felt and acknowledged, the love left behind was less of a burden, more a gift. Until, she knew, the sadness struck again. She’d be there for her Mama Estela, the way her mothers had been there for her.

“Livi?” said Estela. “I need you to know that it’s not your job to try and protect me from grief.”

Liv felt her cheeks flush. “I don’t wanna make things worse…,” she muttered.

“I know. And I love you for caring so much. But I’m your mother, and it’s my job to look after you. I can’t do that if you hide when you’re not okay.”

“My being okay isn’t more important than yours,” Liv demanded.

“Well, yeah. But I’m looked after. Mama Taylor is there for me; always. And sometimes I need to go round to see Tio Nicolas and unload on him as well. I’m, um, I’m going to see a grief counsellor soon… you know, ‘cause things have been eating me up recently. I’m going through a hard time, but I’m going to be all right.”

Secure in her mother’s strong arms, Liv let out a long exhale.

“So all you need to do,” Taylor added, snuggling in, “is trust that no one in this family is going to struggle and not be taken care of. Whatever you need help with, you can talk to us-- and if we need help in turn from elsewhere, we’ve got it, okay? We don’t want you suffering for our benefit; not ever.”

Liv could trust in that. It was a weight off her shoulders; a heavy one. “You don’t mind,” she asked, “if I sometimes ask questions about Abuelita, right? ‘Cause even if it’s hard to talk about, it’s better than me bottling it up?” She turned to face Estela. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, as Liv knew her own would be.

“Yes. You can always talk to me about Abuelita. And, honestly? I reckon Tio Nicolas would love to tell you lots of stories.”

“Hey,” Taylor said, “maybe we could bring out the old home movies?

That… all sounded really nice. She didn’t want her grandmother to just be those horrible, haunting images playing over in her mind; she wanted to know the person, in the only way she could-- through shared stories and memories played back.

A sharp bark and a long whine made Liv jump, almost clunking poor Estela in the chin.

“Jesus, Livi!”

Seeing that no one was actually hurt, Taylor snorted with laughter. “Sounds like Robin’s realised we’re up here cuddling without him. So bitchy of us.”

Liv laughed. It made her body ache. She was tired, so tired. Working out a great sadness off the back of life-saving surgery and a long period of hospital treatment could do that.

“Poor Robin!” She yawned a massive yawn. “I. Am. So. Tired.”

“You can nap in here, or we could bring you some lunch?”

“All right-- lunch first!”

Helped up against the large, just-firm-enough pillows, Liv settled in. Now, she was through the storm.

#liv montoya #estela x mc #endless summer #estela montoya #montoya family feels #liv ain't immune to the angst just cause she's cute!

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